A New Life in a Grim Old Place
by astridfire
Summary: ON HIATUS. Draco finds sanctuary and love at number twelve Grimmauld Place. Dark and angsty in later chapters. DracoGinny.
1. Chapter 1

Author: Astridfire

Title: A New Life in a Grim Old Place

Rating: PG-13 for now, possibly R in later chapters.

Warnings: eventually there will be blood

Genre: Romance

Pairings: Draco/Ginny

Spoilers: This story takes place the summer following HBP

Summary: Draco finds sanctuary and a little lovin' at number twelve Grimmauld Place.

Disclaimer: The Wonderful World of Harry Potter does not belong to me. Quite obviously.

-----

Draco stood alone in the dark on the steps of a very old house. His nose wrinkled in distaste at its façade. The place was nearly _crumbling_. The black paint on the front door was peeling and the silver serpent doorknocker was in need of a good polish. Draco reached out his hand to touch it and hesitated. Professor Snape had apparated him to this miserable little square, given him the address and left quickly. This was very sensible on Snape's part, because Draco knew Potter would sooner kill Snape than listen to the explanation that would clear Snape in the eyes of his very angry comrades. But it still left Draco standing alone on the front porch of the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters. He clutched a roll of parchment in his hand, which he hoped dearly would convince the Light side to protect him. At the moment, however, just knowing what was coming, Draco would almost prefer to be dead. At least the killing curse is quick. This would be a long, drawn out torture, especially if they allowed him to stay.

Draco steeled himself and grasped the serpent firmly and knocked three times.

He heard footsteps and a muffled question, "Is that… is that someone knocking?"

The door opened quickly and Draco was greeted with a wand in his face. The wand, of course, belonged to Potter.

Harry's eyes widened, "Malfoy." Draco watched sullenly as Harry waged a quick inner battle and then hissed, "Get in here then."

Draco brushed past Harry into the entryway. It was just as dark and dank inside as it was out. And this is where he would have to live? Draco's lip curled in distaste, then he noticed Weasley and Granger standing nearby and it curled further.

Harry had shut the door and performed several complicated locking charms. Ron, looking so angry that he could burst hissed, "What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?"

Why were they whispering? Draco wondered, but he thrust the rolled up parchment at Harry without saying a word.

The lesser two crowded around their hero to read the letter over his shoulder, looking reluctantly curious. Granger gasped.

"Dumbledore," Harry said, skimming the missive. Draco had read it over and over again before re-sealing it. He hadn't had much respect for Dumbledore when he was at Hogwarts, but after suffering several weeks of being the Dark Lord's latest disappointment, and rounds and rounds of the cruciatus curse, Draco began to wish fervently that he had taken the old man up on his offer of amnesty.

Professor Snape had told Draco his side of the story in clipped tones during their flight from Malfoy Manor, but it had been comforting to read and reread the words that Dumbledore had said on the tower: Draco is not a killer. He is caught up in something far beyond his control. He is to be offered sanctuary. And Snape… Snape is to be forgiven.

Potter was seething when he finished the letter. He handed it back to Hermione without looking at her so she and Ron could get a better look. Hermione finished reading the letter and placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I won't forgive Snape. I won't," Harry hissed.

"We should find Professor McGonagall," said Hermione quietly.

Ron, who had grabbed the letter from her hands, strode towards Draco, thrusting it in Draco's face. "How do we know this is real, Malfoy? How do we know this isn't a trick?"

Draco opened his mouth to reply scathingly, but Hermione snatched the letter back and waved her wand over it several times. "It's real," she said, "We should show this to the rest of them."

Harry nodded and strode away, pushing angrily through a swinging door. Hermione followed, and so did Ron, but not until he had shot Draco a look of deepest loathing. Draco was sure that his face echoed the sentiment.

The door led to a large kitchen, which was surprisingly well lit in contrast to the foyer. A large fireplace was situated at the far end of the room. A long dining table, which probably sat at least twenty, was largely populated with red heads. More Weasleys, Draco groaned inwardly. Also present were Professor McGonagall, that werewolf Lupin, and others that Draco didn't recognize. Was this ragtag crew the group that would bring about the salvation of the wizarding world? And his protectors? He'd probably be better off on his own.

There was a general uproar when the others caught sight of him, but Harry raised his hands in a placating manner. To Draco's surprise, they quieted.

The letter was read aloud by McGonagall to much gasping and then more yelling, which led to a heated discussion on whether Draco would be allowed to stay.

Draco stood silently against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. If these Dumbledore-loving fools wouldn't listen to the old man's words then he certainly wasn't going to attempt to plead his case to them. As they argued, Draco made plans for himself. When he was thrown out he'd run away and live as a muggle. His Gringotts account would have to be drained and converted to muggle currency. He'd have to disguise his appearance, and run. Very far away.

A roar from Harry put a halt to everything, "It's my house. This is what Dumbledore wanted. He stays." Draco's eyes snapped to Harry's. Was Potter serious? Harry regarded him with a look of animosity and a hint of pity. Draco sneered. The last thing he wanted to feel towards Harry was gratitude.

"KREACHER!" Harry yelled, his voice echoing in the stone room. There was a loud crack and a filthy old house elf appeared at Harry's side. "Take Malfoy to a room."

Draco followed the elf out of the kitchen, listening to the voices behind him.

"Harry, why?" asked Granger.

"Because," answered Harry simply, "He couldn't do it."

Bewildered at this unexpected turn of events, Draco allowed himself to be led by the elf up two flights of stairs to a bedroom, where he was finally, blessedly, alone.

-----

It turned out that Draco had wonderful timing. When he awoke the next morning and came downstairs searching for breakfast, he found the rest of the members of the Order muttering to each other about the Golden Trio taking off in the middle of the night without saying a word to anyone.

Draco smiled delightedly to himself at this fortuitous turn of events and took the sports section of the Daily Prophet from the pile at the table. He skimmed Quidditch scores while he ate. The food was delicious. Weasley's mother could cook!

The others seemed to think the Weaslette knew more than she was letting on about the trio, because they would not stop asking her questions or just outright begging for information.

"Please, Ginny, we need to know where they went."

"They could be in danger."

Ginny grew more and more annoyed at each question. Couldn't the rest of them see it? Draco thought. She's going to explode. But then, for years Draco had made it his business to annoy Weasleys'. He knew the signs: red ears, bright patches of color high on their horribly freckled cheeks, and a raging temper showing in the eyes. She would be screeching soon. At the moment, however, he was trying to enjoy his breakfast, and he couldn't do that if the ginger rat was screaming.

"Look," he said loudly, and in his best drawl, "It's clear she doesn't know where they've gone."

The rest of the table had turned to stare at him, as though they had forgotten he was in the house at all.

"And how is that clear, Malfoy?" snidely asked one of the twins.

"If she'd known Potter was leaving she'd have been up half the night crying her eyes out over him. And look, her eyes aren't puffy or red at all."

Their heads swung as one to look at Ginny's eyes, which were confused, but not puffy or red.

There, thought Draco as he smoothed out the newspaper, that should keep them quiet for at least a little while. The food really was excellent.

-----

Two weeks of near isolation later, it was September the first. Hogwarts was closed, and he would not be going back to school. He was trapped in this miserable house.

Draco stared moodily out the kitchen window, stabbing at his scrambled eggs. He didn't think he'd miss Hogwarts after last year, but he did. He missed his Slytherin friends, even if they were all prats. He missed Zabini's cold indifference, Pansy's insipid chatter, and Crabbe and Goyle's dumbstruck looks at everything a professor said. He missed Quidditch, care packages from his mother, and harassing first years, but mostly he missed classes.

Draco had been second in his year, right behind that Mudblood Granger, until last year when he had fallen shockingly behind. He glared at his eggs, as though they were to blame for him wasting all those hours attempting to fix that damnable vanishing cabinet.

He'd been top of Slytherin house in everything. He'd even been top in Defense, which he'd claimed to not give a rat's ass about. He'd gotten Outstanding's on all his OWL's, as anything less would have meant incurring his father's wrath, though it hadn't mattered. Lucius had been locked in Azkaban when his results had arrived.

It was his father's fault that his sixth year had been wasted.

Draco shook his head. He did not want to think about his father.

The house cleared out during the day. At night the place was a wreck with Order members hatching plots and tracking Death Eater movements. At least, that was what he thought they were doing. He wasn't allowed in on the meetings, which he approved of. They had no reason to trust him with information, and if they did Draco would have been disappointed. If they were ineffectual and foolish Draco would be living in Grimmauld Place for the rest of his life. And because that was something he didn't even want to contemplate, Draco found he was whole-heartedly rooting for Potter to succeed. It was revolting.

This morning he and Ginny were the only ones left eating breakfast. The Order members who lived in the house had gone for the day and Mrs. Weasley had long ago bustled out of the kitchen. The Weaslette was steadfastly ignoring him, and if there was one thing that Draco hated it was being ignored. He mulled over, not for the first time, the idea of befriending her. It would certainly be beneficial to his mental health (if he had one more conversation with himself, he thought he would have to checked into St. Mungo's.)

There was a voice in his head that berated him for having such traitorous thoughts, but Draco shoved the voice away. He'd already disgraced the name of Malfoy in his father's eyes by failing the Dark Lord. He couldn't do much more damage by simply talking to a Weasley. Draco was tired of feeling isolated, and he longed for someone to talk to. Anyone.

The person who was most readily available was the Weaslette. Potter's little Weasley. It would be quite a challenge to befriend her, Draco thought, but it would probably be worth it. At dinner she was often viciously sarcastic with her brothers, and sometimes Draco had to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep himself from laughing out loud. The Weasleys' may not be in the same social class as the Malfoy's or any of his old friends, but they weren't boring.

Bolstered by the idea of his new project, he asked Ginny, "What's there to do around here anyway, Weasley?"

She looked up at him in surprise, but mastered her expression at once, "Are you bored, Malfoy?"

"Yes."

"No one to plot nefariously with?" she asked mockingly.

He narrowed his eyes at her. She stared right back.

"Are you lonely?" she asked slowly, enunciating each syllable. Her voice dripped with contempt.

He opened his mouth to respond in kind, all thoughts of being friendly gone, but Mrs. Weasley hurried back into the room at that moment, two large stacks of books floating behind her. "You two," she said, letting the books drop onto the table with a loud smack, "will be studying for your NEWT's."

"But—" said Ginny, her mouth hanging open in an unattractive manner.

"No buts!" Molly said, "I'll not have the two of you wasting away an entire year of school. I want you to study as if you were still at Hogwarts."

"Mum, who's going to teach us? We can't really learn all this on our own."

"Minerva and Remus will occasionally tutor you when they have the time. Ginny, you were at the top of your class, and from what your professors have said Draco was too. Neither of you should have a problem. Didn't Hermione leave you her notes?"

Draco sneered at the thought of using Granger's notes.

"Yes, but—"

"No buts!" Molly said sharply, "And Draco can probably help you with your studies."

"Actually, Mrs. Weasley," Draco said, "I could probably do with going over sixth year again. I was a little… distracted last year."

Ginny snorted derisively, "Distracted…"

"Well, whatever you feel more comfortable with," Molly said, and continued on businesslike, "I expect the both of you to study every day during regular school hours, and more if you feel up to it. If you work hard enough you may be able to take your NEWT in June."

Ginny gaped, "Mum!"

Draco couldn't muster up the same feeling. He had taken the seventh year transfiguration book off the top of his pile and was casually flipping though it. He wouldn't allow it to show, but he was excited to get started.

"Minerva got you books for every class, as she wasn't sure what you were taking."

Ginny had sighed in a resigned fashion, hauling her books into her arms, "I'll get Hermione's notes."

"Meet Draco in the library, dear!" Mrs. Weasley called after her.

"Yes Mum," Ginny sighed, trudging through the door.

----


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I bow down to JKR for being so fabulously creative.

----

The atmosphere in the library was tense. Draco sat across a table from the littlest Weasel, who had her arms crossed over her chest and was resolutely not looking at him. Draco was perusing Granger's sixth year charms notes, and had to grudgingly admit, if only to himself, that they were very good. He would have no trouble catching up with access to the Mudblood's notes.

Ginny gave an angry snort and Draco felt obligated to ease the tension in the room. He wouldn't be able to learn anything if she continued to be furious with him.

"Alright, Weasley. Out with it."

Her eyes cut to his, and Draco took a mental step backwards at the venom he saw in them.

"All the terrible things you've done, and I have to study with you."

"You heard Dumbledore's letter, I didn't—"

"Yes, I heard it," Ginny spat, "but I know better. I know there was a part of you that enjoyed it."

"I didn't bloody enjoy—" but Ginny was deaf to his words.

"You poisoned my brother. You almost killed Katie Bell!" Ginny had risen from her chair and was leaning threateningly over the table.

Draco was nearly shaking with fury, but he was unwilling to let her interrupt him again.

"You let Death Eaters into the school, and that's why Bill was hurt by that—that monster! And you're the reason Dumbledore is dead!"

Draco rose too and leaned towards her, "I am _not_ the reason Dumbledore was killed. If I were, I would not be here! I would not have had to escape. He was going to kill me!"

"You did all this, you hurt all those people to save your own arse?!"

"Not just mine! My mother's. He was going to torture and kill her if I didn't do what he asked! I had to make up for my father's mistake!"

Ginny had calmed a bit at the mention of his mother, but Draco wasn't stopping there. She had opened this can of worms and it was her own fault if she couldn't stomach the details.

"But I failed," he said harshly, "In the end I couldn't do it." Draco sat heavily in his chair, and Ginny did the same, looking wary. "And because of my failure, I've been tortured every day this summer."

"Tortured?"

"What? Want to know how he does it Weasley? How he imprisoned me in my own home? How every day he'd invent new ways to hurt me? How he'd heal me and do it again?"

Ginny shook her head and looked at her fingers, which she was twisting on the tabletop.

"I've paid for my sins, Weasley. You and the rest of the bloody Order may not think so, but I have," said Draco quietly, his voice losing its bitterness and simply becoming cold.

They sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own dark thoughts.

"I suppose I shouldn't think so badly of you," said Ginny.

Draco merely raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged and said, "You're not the only one here who's done the Dark Lord's bidding."

"What on earth are you talking about Weasley?"

"Your second year," she said leadingly.

Draco frowned and then snorted when comprehension dawned. "You?" he said, "You opened the Chamber of Secrets?"

Ginny glared, "Don't laugh."

"But it's… you," said Draco, smirking and gesturing at her, "You set a great bloody snake on all your Mudblood friends."

Ginny shot up from her chair, "He possessed me, you bastard! And it was all your father's fault!"

Draco's eyes followed her as she stomped out of the library. He debated on whether or not to follow her. If he didn't at least try to smooth things out he'd have more rows to look forward to, which would definitely impede his studying. He didn't relish the idea of screaming back at her every day. But if he did apologize, he shuddered at the thought, then maybe he'd have at least one person in this miserable house who would speak to him.

He sighed heavily and followed her out of the room, and caught up with her by the front door.

"Weasley, wait."

She whirled around, standing in front of some old moth eaten velvet curtains. She put a finger to her lips and hissed, "Be quiet!"

He threw his hands up, completely exasperated with her. Here he was, actually apologizing to a damn Weasley, and she was shushing him. It would not be borne. And anyway, what was with the lot of them, always whispering by the front door? Afraid that the Dark Lord had his ear to the keyhole?

"Why are you always bloody whispering in the foyer?" he said, his voice rising with every word.

Then he had to cover his ears because those ugly curtains behind Ginny flew open and a mad old woman in a portrait was screaming her bloody head off.

"_Filth! Scum! Degrading the house of my fathers!_"

Ginny ran for the curtains and tried to pull them shut, yelling at the portrait as she did so, "Shut up! Shut up you crazy old bat!" The curtains would not shut, and it seemed the old woman was trying to claw at Ginny's face. The littlest Weasel yelled, "Help me, Malfoy! This is all your damn fault!"

Then the screaming stopped. The old woman, who moments before had been drooling, spitting, with rolling eyes, now looked quite sane, and peered at Draco with interest. "Malfoy," she said, "Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes m'am," he said hesitantly, hoping that this wouldn't bring on another round of screaming.

The old bat actually smiled. Draco heard Ginny gasp beside him. "You look just like your mother," she said, and for Draco comprehension dawned.

"Aunt Walburga?"

The portrait's eyes snapped to Ginny, who was gaping at Draco. "Shut your mouth, young lady. Ill bred purebloods," she said to Draco and then turned to Ginny again, "You're a disgrace to the name of wizard, you red haired harlot."

"Hey!" Ginny said indignantly, and made to grab the curtains again.

"You should not be consorting with filth like this, Draco. What would your parents think?"

Draco refrained from telling her that it didn't much matter what they thought any longer, as they were both as good as dead. "Not to worry, Aunt Walburga," drawled Draco, moving to help Ginny with the curtains, "I'm not enjoying any of it." The curtains closed on his aunt's approving smile.

Ginny shot Draco a pointed look and he followed her into the kitchen, which was blessedly empty.

"Aunt Walburga?" said Ginny incredulously.

"Great Aunt Walburga, actually," drawled Draco. He smirked and said, "What Weasley? Can't keep track of your own family members? Not that I'm surprised."

Ginny rolled her eyes and pulled two butterbeers from the icebox. "Here," she said, thrusting the bottle at him.

Draco took it from her, feeling wary. She took a long drink from her own bottle and sat heavily at the kitchen table. He decided that her intentions were pure and did the same. He sat across from her and drank slowly. He looked subtly at her. The anger from before seemed to have faded. She merely looked bored now. Draco noted that her freckles were the same color as her hair.

"How did you know who she was?" asked Ginny, picking at the label on her bottle.

"There was a portrait of her at the manor," said Draco, "She was younger in it, of course. She used to yell at me when I was a child." Draco adopted a high pitched voice and said, "Young Master Malfoy! Behave in the manner befitting the child of a Black!"

Ginny smirked, "At least now I know where you get your sparkling personality."

"And where did you get yours Weasley? From an angry cat?"

Ginny snorted, "That was so not up to your usual standard, Malfoy."

Draco sighed, "I know." He took a long swig of his butterbeer. "It's exhausting being insulting all the time."

The corner of Ginny's lips quirked.

"Look Weasley, can we call a temporary truce? I really want to get started on that charms work, and I won't learn anything if I'm expected to continue sniping at you."

Ginny grinned, "Nerd."

"Lazy arse."

She smiled genuinely, "I'll do you one better Malfoy. During school hours I'll be civil, but after that…" she spread her hands, palms up, "you're fair game."

Draco found himself grinning at her. This girl was full of surprises. Maybe friendship wasn't such a crazy idea. He held his butterbeer over the table, "Deal."

Ginny did the same and they clinked bottles, "Deal."

They sipped in unison.

Ginny stood and said, "Okay, back to the library."

The rest of the afternoon was spent in relative peace, with only the most necessary snarking.

-----


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I've got a good portion of this story already written, but most of that is action-y parts, or fluffy bits. I'm having problems with all the stuff in between that actually makes it feel like a story. So, I suppose what I'm saying is, bear with me, I will finish this thing. It's just going to get a lot longer than I expected. Also, thanks for the reviews guys, you've been sweet. I just discovered the whole stats counter thing and I'm addicted to checking it. A ton of people have read the previous three chapters, and I find that awesome.

-----

Several days of Grimmauld Classes (as Ginny had dubbed them) later, Draco allowed himself to relax his guard around the youngest Weasley. She hadn't brought the past year again, and for that Draco was thankful. He in turn didn't bring up the subject of the Chamber of Secrets.

She didn't seem to be at all like her brother, aside from the temper.

Ginny was one of those annoying people who didn't need to study in order to do well. In spell work she was infuriatingly proficient, often taking less than five minutes to master a charm completely, where in most cases it took Draco that amount of time to even perform the charm correctly.

In potions, however, she was a disaster. Draco felt he was forever snatching ingredients from her fingers before she could put them in the cauldron and kill them all in the resulting explosion.

"Belladonna? What are you thinking Weasley? Did you even read the directions?"

She'd merely scowl or stick her tongue out at him. In the end, Draco wondered if she was doing it on purpose. After five close calls, he ordered her to sit far away from the cauldron and made her read the directions aloud. She seemed a little too pleased about the new situation.

-----

Draco was bored. It was the weekend, and Ginny had refused to spend any of it studying.

He wandered through the closed doors of Grimmauld Place, digging through desks and bureaus, examining trinkets in glass fronted cabinets, but nothing alleviated his boredom. Only the library had yielded any progress in that department. There were so many dark arts books in there that his head spun. When he'd asked the Weaslette why the Order was in possession of such books, she had smiled evilly and said, "Know thine enemy." She'd ruined the effect by giggling and saying that Lupin had thought some of them to be too useful to throw out.

And this was where Draco was headed now. If he could do nothing else for this pathetic excuse for an army, he could at least catalogue and organize their library. That would take a few days at least.

He was not at all surprised to find Ginny already there. He was a little curious as to why she was attempting to scale a bookshelf, however.

"You could just use your wand, you know," said Draco. Stupid bint probably hadn't even considered a summoning charm.

"I would, but it's my wand that I'm after," she said smoothly, making a tiny noise as she hauled herself up a shelf further. The noise reminded Draco of sweaty, ecstacy filled nights and he considered the girl before him in a new light, and raised his eyebrows appreciatively. Her ponytail slithered down her back in an appealing wave, and Draco sent a silent prayer that wherever Potter was he was protecting the Muggles from the Dark Lord, because Draco had never seen anything so attractive as the littlest Weasley's arse clad in skin-hugging muggle jeans.

"How did your wand end up there?" asked Draco, inching closer to the bookcase.

Ginny hauled herself up another shelf and said, "Fred and George. I hexed them pretty good this morning, and this is my punishment for not respecting my elders. Ha!"

"Why not use the ladder?"

"It's broken." Up she went another shelf.

"A chair?"

"Not tall enough." Up another shelf.

"Went to get someone with a wand?"

"Too easy."

She was more than half way up the book case now. "Ah ha!" she shouted, reaching triumphantly for her wand. Draco saw the danger too late.

The bookcase had begun to tip forward, the weight of her being just enough to pull it off balance. Ginny yelped as she lost her hand and foot holds, and fell roughly to the floor, even as Draco rushed forward to catch the heavy mahogany case before it crushed her. Books rained down on her and onto Draco's feet, making him wince in pain. The top of the case fell heavily onto Draco's hands, nearly taking Draco down with it, but he managed to push it up again.

"Weasley," he said, "this thing is heavy, you have to get out."

She was so covered in books that he could not see her, but none of the books moved.

"Weasley," said Draco, panicked, feeling his arms ache to give out, "Weasley, get up! Ginny! Ginny! Gin!"

She wasn't moving.

"Help! Help somebody! The library!" Draco had rarely ever been this terrified. Leave it to him to accidentally kill the only person in this hellhole who would speak to him without a sneer on her face.

Professor Lupin rushed through the door and quickly used his wand to make the bookcase tip upwards to its original position, safely on the wall. Draco sagged in relief and inspected the bruises that were already forming on his hands, deep red lines with purple shot through the center were throbbing on his palms.

And Ginny, he looked up to see Lupin and her mother pulling her from the wreckage of books, her head hanging doll-like and limp. Lupin carried her from the room, reassuring Molly that everything would be okay, and they'd floo Poppy. Molly was sobbing. Draco watched them go and felt very strongly that he should follow. He did save her life, after all.

That was, if she wasn't actually dead. Draco got to his feet. Some of those books look heavy, he thought, and had the bookcase hurt her before he'd managed to pull it up again? He followed Lupin and Ginny's mother down the hall to her room.

They had her laid on the bed. Lupin rushed out past him, presumably to call Madam Pomfrey.

Molly was still crying over Ginny, begging her baby girl to wake up. She was probably blubbering needlessly, Draco thought, inching closer. Ginny had probably come off far worse in Quidditch matches.

Then he saw the blood seeping through her hair and his stomach turned over. He stood stock-still, staring at her in horror.

Madam Pomfrey and Lupin rushed past him to get at the bed.

Draco sat down on the floor heavily, feeling dizzy and slightly nauseous. A few moments, or perhaps hours later, Draco heard a low girlish mumble come from the bed and he shot to his feet. He peered over Molly's shoulder and saw Ginny looking dazedly at the faces around her bed. When her eyes met his she smiled dazzlingly.

He couldn't help smiling back.

"What happened?" Molly demanded, rounding on him. Draco took several steps back. The woman was positively terrifying.

"The-- the bookcase," he stuttered out, "She was looking for her wand. Her brothers hid it from her."

The fury in Molly's eyes tripled, "The twins!" And she pushed past him yelling into thin air. Draco found he did not envy the twins one bit.

He turned back to Ginny, who was apparently telling Lupin and Pomfrey what had happened. Lupin was shaking his head at her in an exasperated fashion, but when she finished he squeezed her hand and said that he was glad she was all right, and he'd try to deal with Molly.

"You need rest," Madam Pomfrey said to Ginny, plunking down a bottle of sleeping potion on her nightstand, "And you," she said briskly, turning to Draco, "Let me see your hands."

Draco held his palms out and she tutted. She waved her wand several times over them and Draco watched the marks lose their purple color and fade to red. "They'll ache tomorrow in any case, but after that you'll be fine." She graced Draco with a smile that made him feel very awkward, patted him on the shoulder and left the room.

Draco turned to Ginny and found that she was smirking delightedly at him.

"What?" he said.

She giggled, "I think she's proud of you."

"Yes, well," Draco said, feeling the awkwardness rush back. He couldn't recall anyone ever being proud of him for anything he'd done. It made him uneasy. "What was I going to do? Let the bookcase crush you to death?"

She smiled softly at him, "Thank you… for that. It was very stupid of me—"

"Oh!" he said, feigning astonishment and hoping to lighten the mood, "A Weasley admitting to being an idiot? Will wonders never cease?"

Her eyes twinkled with mirth even as her mouth scowled. "I plan on being stupid again tomorrow, care to save me again?"

Was she… flirting with him? She must have been hit _very_ hard on the head.

"I expect you'll need me to be around all day," he said.

"Oh yes, please," she said in mock seriousness. Hopefully not _too_ hard.

The corner of his mouth turned up and he spun on his heel, calling behind himself, "Get some sleep Weasley."

He heard her laughing as he shut the door and walked with a fresh spring in his step down the hall.

-----

At dinner that night Draco felt as if he had just been accepted into a very exclusive club. Mr. Weasley had patted him on the shoulder and smiled kindly down at him before sitting at the table himself. Mrs. Weasley had called him 'dear' when she passed him the potatoes. Fred and George offered him a Canary Cream at dessert. Lupin asked him how his defense studies were going. Tonks tried entertaining him by turning her hair white blonde and making her facial features more pointed.

He'd become an honorary Weasley.

Not knowing what else to do, Draco tried to be polite, but his skills in the area were more than a little rusty. He tried to accept Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's thanks. He made an attempt to play along with Fred and George. He answered Lupin with a startled, "Fine." He smiled weakly at Tonks. But the change in dinnertime atmosphere was jarring. He had grown used to being more or less ignored.

Draco excused himself from the table, only to hear a chorus of friendly goodnights. He stumbled from the room, feeling something akin to horror.

He went straight to Ginny's bedroom door and pounded on it.

"Come in."

Draco flew through the door and shut it quickly behind himself. Ginny was still lying in her bed, a look of alarm on her face. He realized how he must look.

"What's wrong?"

He ran his hands through his hair and began pacing restlessly at the foot of her bed, "They're being nice to me!"

Her eyes widened and she started giggling.

"It's not funny!"

She clutched her stomach, shaking with laughter.

Draco glared at her. She would laugh at his distress. Evil bint. He sat down on the edge of her bed, looking at her petulantly. It was one thing to befriend Ginny. He'd felt like he was getting away with something. But now… the Weasleys' had accepted him. He didn't like it one bit.

She calmed herself down, "They're just grateful that you saved me from being crushed. I'm sure they'll go back to hating you soon. Just throw a few 'Damn those Mudbloods' into conversation."

"I feel like bloody Saint Potter," he grumbled.

"Oh Draco!" she said incredulously, "You could never be Harry!"

"Am I supposed to offended or relieved?"

She cocked her head to one side and considered him, "Both probably."

He scowled, and looked around the room. He hadn't had a chance to absorb his surroundings earlier, but it was a nice room. It was much brighter than the one he'd been put up in. The walls were covered with an ivy patterned wallpaper which was peeling slightly at the edges. Her things were scattered around the room, clothes were piled high on a chair in the corner, and there were short stacks of books everywhere. She was a slob, Draco realized.

"So," said Ginny, "are we like…. friends now?"

"What?"

"I mean," she said, looking down at her hands, "I know you don't really have anyone else to talk to, and we're sort of forced to be around each other with classes and all, but it sort of feels like we're friends."

Draco felt a nervous flutter in his stomach, but squashed it.

Ginny was clearly growing more agitated, and she rambled on, "I know that we've hated each other for years, and that doesn't just go away. But maybe we just didn't know each other before. I mean, I always thought you were just a spoiled arrogant brat, and you still are—"

Draco snorted incredulously.

"But I can tell that you're more than that, and…. I'm going to shut up now."

Draco glanced at her. She was blushing madly. He laughed lightly and decided to take pity on her, "Yeah Weasley, we're friends."

Her eyes met his and she smiled in relief. The silence dragged on for a bit, and Draco started to feel awkward.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes. Madame Pomfrey fixed me."

"You did look a little broken."

She punched him lightly on the arm, "Thanks a lot."

"Well, you didn't look very good."

Ginny tilted her head to one side, "We're you worried?"

Draco swallowed, sighed in defeat and said, "A little." Time seemed to drag on, and he couldn't bring himself to look at her, thinking of how limp she looked when Lupin had carried her from the library, and the blood that had stained her hair.

"Draco, if you hadn't been there…"

"Let's not think about that, alright? I'd go mad if you weren't here. Until tonight, and the horrifying display at dinner, you were the only person in this house who spoke to me. So my saving you was entirely selfish."

"How very Slytherin of you," she quipped.

He smirked weakly, and decided that he couldn't stay in her room any longer. He'd already said too much. He rose slowly from his perch on the edge of her bed. "I'm tired. I think I'm going to go to sleep." Ginny looked disappointed for a moment, but she cleared her face quickly.

"Okay," she said, smiling tentatively at him, "I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Weasley."

"Goodnight St. Draco," she was grinning. He smirked at her and shut the door softly behind him.

Draco walked slowly down the hall, staring at his feet. He found himself at the library, looking down at the disheveled pile of books. He took out his wand and levitated them back to their shelves one by one, his mind completely elsewhere.

-----


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Oh, don't I wish! It's all JKR's baby.

A/N: Sorry this one took so long friends. I had a hard time with the action-y stuff, as that kind of thing really isn't my forte, and it's November and I've been designing t-shirts like mad to be somewhat prepared for the holiday season. Hopefully I am.

-----

"Your wrist movement is wrong," Ginny said helpfully, "It's more of a hard toss, like you're skipping a rock."

Draco growled. It was utterly frustrating to practice charms with this girl. Friends or not, he wanted to wring her neck.

"I'll get it Weasley, if you'd just shut your mouth for a second."

"Just think," she said in a dramatic tone, "If you hadn't been _distracted_ last year, you'd have learned this already."

He shot her a glare, and angrily threw the spell at the head of cabbage they were practicing on. The leaves fell away from it in neat even layers.

"Oh, thank Merlin," said Ginny, "Can we do something else now?"

"You certainly can," said a new voice. Remus Lupin was standing in the doorway.

"Hello, Remus," said Ginny.

"That's Professor Lupin to you, Miss Weasley," he said in a teasing tone. "Will you two follow me to the courtyard? I'd like to see how you're progressing with your Defense studies."

Ginny plucked her wand from the table, and followed Lupin from the room. Draco followed a little reluctantly. Lupin was unfailingly nice to him and had never shown any inclination to want to bite him, but Draco found it somewhat difficult to put his old prejudices aside. Just stop it, Draco thought, he was not going to be like his father.

Lupin led them downstairs, and out into the courtyard of the large house. The plants and trees here were overgrown and weeds had invaded the cracks in the stone patio. Large stone statues of Merlin and other famous wizards stood like sentries around the garden. The afternoon sunlight was sifting through the leaves, and it cast the area in a pleasant green glow.

"I think this is large enough," said Lupin, turning to face them.

"What are we doing out here, Remus?" asked Ginny.

"The two of you are going to duel."

Ginny turned to Draco excitedly and they shared a smirk. "I'm so going to kick your arse, Malfoy."

"We'll see about that," he said smugly. She had no idea what she was in for.

"Alright, that's enough trash talk," Lupin said. He cast a spell on each of them in turn, "That should deflect any truly harmful spells you cast on each other, but I wouldn't test it if I were you. No dark spells," he looked specifically at Draco, "but I don't expect you to fight fair. Real battles are rarely fought fairly. When there's a clear winner, we'll figure out what your weaknesses were and then work on them. Alright?"

"Alright, Remus," said Ginny. Draco nodded, and noted the mischievous glint in Ginny's eyes. He remembered her Bat-Bogey Hex all too well, and he'd be damned if she hit him with it again. As Draco began to situate himself in the starting Dueling position, his back still turned on Lupin and Ginny, he heard a shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

Draco's wand flew from his hand, and he spared Ginny a look of outrage before self preservation won out. He dove behind a large stone statue of Merlin. "Didn't take any lessons from those poncey Gryffs, eh Weasley? Did you miss the day when you all learned to be noble and honest?"

"Just trying to fight Slytherin with Slytherin, Malfoy."

Draco peered round the statue. She was standing confidently in the center of the courtyard, tapping his wand idly against her leg. When she saw him she fired a stinging hex towards him, but he was too quick. The spell bounced harmlessly off the statue.

"Come out, come out," Ginny sang, clearly delighted with herself. The little chit.

Draco began to concentrate very hard on the picture of his wand in Ginny's hand. Last summer had taught him a few tricks, including Occlumency and a bit of wandless magic. Draco was very good at it, when he had time, quiet, and endless patience. This was, however, a do or die situation. There was no way he was going to let the Weaslette win quite so easily. When he had the picture of his wand clearly in his minds eye, he began chanting quietly, "Accio, accio, accio." He could _feel_ the magic working. Ginny made a startled noise, and his fingers triumphantly snatched the wand from the air.

Ginny was striding towards his hiding place, with a look of mingled shock and outrage on her face. He quickly fired a tripping jinx on her, and she tumbled roughly to the ground, but it gave Draco enough time to reposition himself.

He circled her and she rolled over to look at him. "Wandless magic? Is that part of the standard Death Eater training now?"

Draco snickered and leered at her. She shot a spell at him from her position on the ground, which he easily parried away. She shot to her feet and they began circling each other. Draco grinned. This was _fun_.

They began throwing curses, hexes, and jinxes rapid fire. But neither could touch the other. They seemed to be equally matched. But then Draco hit her with an impedimentia. Her movements slowed, and Draco cast several charms on her in succession, just to shake her up a bit: a hair growth charm, a shrinking spell on her robes, and spell to charm her new locks green.

Ginny screamed in indignation when she caught sight of a long green curl.

"Slytherin green suits you, Weasley."

The impedimentia had worn off, and Ginny hit him with a vicious Jelly-legs jinx.

Draco yelped and wobbled quickly, and very unsteadily towards the statue of Merlin. He fell down behind it gracelessly.

Ignoring the charms currently at work on her appearance, Draco watched with a twinge of fright as Ginny cast a disillusionment charm on herself.

He fired a spell at her slowly fading form, but it missed. This was not good, he thought. The light in the courtyard was dim to begin with, and Ginny would cast no shadow to give her away. But her footsteps would.

Draco took the jelly legs jinx off of himself, and got to his feet slowly, his wand at the ready. He scanned the courtyard for any sign of movement, his ears listening for any noise. Remus was chuckling to himself in the corner, the leaves rustled in the slight breeze, but no sound from Ginny. He crept out of hiding, ready to throw a hex at the slightest movement.

From somewhere behind him, he heard a whispered spell, and he whirled around firing 'finite incantatems' indiscriminately. Where _was_ she? Then, the nearly non-existent breeze hit him, and he was blown off his feet and nearly slammed into the statue.

Ginny stepped from the shadows and shouted, "Wingardium leviosa!" She had charmed her hair back to it's original red, but hadn't taken the time to reverse the other charms. Draco felt himself growing ill as she danced his feather light form around the courtyard, until she caught him in the branches of a tree. He clung on for dear life, dropping his wand in the process.

He watched as Ginny bent to retrieve it, grinning hugely.

"Get me down from here Weasley!"

She laughed, "Afraid of heights?"

Draco clung tighter to the branch, nearly hugging it. Ginny's eyes softened, and she looked a little contrite. "Alright, let go, I'll get you down."

She cast the spell again, and Draco let go of the branch reluctantly. She brought him slowly down, but then the little wench took both spells off of him at once so he fell the last few feet to the ground.

That _hurt_! Draco groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. He couldn't believe it. He'd been beaten by a girl.

"So, does this mean I won?" Ginny asked from somewhere above him.

He took his arm away from his face and meant to glare at her. He really did, but when he caught sight of her standing imperiously over him with her wand pointed at his heart he forgot how to breathe. Her robes were ridiculously tight, hugging her body like a second skin and her magically lengthened hair was at her waist and blowing about her like she was a sea siren. Gods, she was devastating.

When she raised her eyebrow wickedly, certainly ready to crow her victory, he said harshly, "Never."

"Alright then," she said in a low voice. She bent her head closer to him, her wand pointed dead at his nose. Her hair brushed his shoulder. It smelled of sandalwood. Draco closed his eyes; he was a sucker for sandalwood.

Then she whispered the words that he'd only heard one other time in his life, and vowed never to hear again if he could help it. His eyes flew open in horror and his hands covered his nose, but…

Nothing happened. No bat bogeys.

Ginny was giggling madly and dancing away from him. From his far corner Remus laughingly called an end to the duel and Ginny the winner of this round. Draco pulled himself slowly to his feet, and walked to the pair of them. Ginny tossed him his wand, which Draco was sorely tempted to use on her.

Next time. Next time he'd get her.

On their way back into the house Draco tripped Ginny. The old fashioned way.

----

A/N: Friendly warning: the next part is even less written than this one was. But I should have more time to work on it now.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Clearly, I own nothing except this plot bunny. And amen for that sister, because I don't know what I'd do if I owned these characters.

A/N: Yeah, it's been aaaages. I suck. I'm sorry.

-----

Another Saturday was creeping slowly by. Draco and Ginny were sitting on the floor of the library, surrounded by teetering piles of books.

"_Transfiguring Your Tresses: An Advanced Guide to Beauty Charms_," Ginny read, and handed the book to Draco, "That goes in the brainless twit section." They were cataloguing the library together and taking vast liberties with naming new sections.

Draco's nose wrinkled at the book as he placed it on a very tall stack of books, "For Dark Wizards they sure do care a lot about how they look."

Ginny shrugged, "If you're going to be evil, you may as well look damn good doing it."

Draco snorted, but privately agreed. The Dark Lord should give that some thought. "_Translating Muggle Torture Devices into Spells You Can Use_," he read, "Odd. That goes over by you."

Ginny took the book from him carefully, as though the book was covered in a disgusting substance. Draco felt his lips curve in an involuntary grin. She was making him do a lot of that.

Ginny absently flipped her long hair over one shoulder as she looked through a few books. Draco found that he was staring stupidly at her. Again. He shook his head. Stop ogling her, he thought to himself. So she's pretty, and funny, and nearly perfect. It was bad enough that she had begun making appearances in his dreams that were anything but friendly, bad enough that he was obsessed with the idea of kissing her, bad enough that he was fairly certain that he was falling for her.

It was pissing him off.

Ginny snorted at the book she was holding, "_Cheating Death: Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Horcruxes, But Didn't Know Anyone Evil Enough To Ask_. Oh, the irony."

"What?"

Ginny's eyes widened slightly, "Oh that's right. You don't know. I'm not even supposed to know…"

Draco raised an eyebrow and waited.

"You're not going to pull a Snape and go running to Voldemort with this information, are you?"

"You know I'm not."

"Good enough for me," she shrugged, "I overheard them talking just before they left. They're going to find the horcruxes that Voldemort made and destroy them."

"What the hell are horcruxes?"

Ginny handed him the book, "Read up."

"But… how do you know what they are?"

She shrugged, "I'll tell you someday."

Enigmatic girl. Draco shook his head, knowing that he wouldn't get that answer out of her. He set the horcrux book aside. He wasn't all that interested. So long as Potter did whatever Potter had to do to defeat Voldemort. So long as he would one day be free of Grimmauld Place.

"So, what's going on with you and Potter anyway?"

Ginny looked up, surprised, "Why?"

"Just asking," Draco said with an enigmatic shrug of his own, "I haven't seen any owls coming for you."

She sighed, "None of them have written. They don't want to be found. And there's nothing going on between Harry and me. Not anymore."

Draco tried to drudge up some sympathy, but found it impossible. "He's a foul git. You can do better."

Ginny laughed, and said with all the grace of a queen accepting a gift, "Thank you."

Several new piles of books grew around them as they sorted and came up with more bizarre classifications, before Ginny stood and stretched, "I'll go get us some lunch. I'm starving."

Draco nodded and stood himself, watching her hips as they swayed out of the room. He shook himself and picked his way over to the rotting tapestry in the corner.

He was surprised to find that the elaborate design was actually a sprawling family tree. His mother's family. He quickly found his own name and his mother's, running his finger lightly over the golden, '_Narcissa_,' and wondering fleetingly where his mother was, and if she was safe.

Draco found himself tracing the gold threads of the Black family tree with his fingertips. His fingers stopped occasionally on burned holes and tried to figure out from what he knew of pureblood genealogy which people or entire families had been eradicated. His knowledge in that area was considerable, as one can imagine.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?" asked Ginny, coming up behind him.

"Looking," said Draco.

"It's kind of gross," said Ginny.

Draco took his fingers from the tapestry, "What's gross?"

"The way we're all related to each other. I mean, look, your mother and father had the same great-great-great grandfather."

"Are you trying to say something insulting about me, Weasley?"

"Not right now."

Draco's lip twitched, but he managed not to smile. It was best not to encourage her.

"I'm just surprised that we don't have weird physical defects."

Draco turned to her smirking, "Like violently red hair?" He caught a lock between his fingers and tugged on it.

Ginny stuck her tongue out at him.

"Just think Weasley," said Draco, sweeping his hand in a wide arc, "if you and your horde of brothers all made respectable pureblood marriages, you could taint the entirety of the gene pool."

She laughed and said, "Red-headed Malfoy's!"

Draco cocked his head at the implication, smirking widely as her eyes rounded.

"I mean," she stammered, "_eventually_ if a Weasley married a… they might have..."

"Your face is the same color as your hair, Weasley," remarked Draco.

She was so flustered that even Draco didn't think it was quite fair to tease her, nor did he know how to go about doing it, so he turned back to the tapestry. He took out his wand and considered the burn holes before him for a moment. "Reparo!" Ginny gasped as blue light wound its way from hole to hole, mending the fabric and stitching names back into the tree in fine gold thread.

When the light had gone he ran his fingers along the threads, finding '_Ginevra Weasley_' where a small hole had been. "There you are," he said. She came forward and touched her name and the names of her family members, smiling softly. Her blush was gone, Draco noticed.

He scanned the tree, finding what he'd been looking for, "An eighth great grandfather. That's not _so_ weird."

He turned then and sat down at the table to eat, leaving her there to look at the Black family tree. She frowned at his back as he walked away, but then…

Her right hand found her own name and her left found his and traced lines upwards until she came to… Alexander Prewitt, their sixth great grandfather.

She blushed again.

-----

(A/N: this scene does not fit into canon. After writing it I found the JKR approved Black Family Tree in the HP Lexicon. I was looking for the real name of Draco's great aunt, which was sadly not Cassiopeia as I had originally planned, though Walburga suits her better. Draco and Ginny do not seem to be blood relatives, but I didn't want to change this scene, so my darling readers are just going to have to accept it.)


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Yeah, I so don't own them, and you know it, so quit rubbing it in already!

A/N: And this is the one you've been waiting for, if you've stuck around this long, and if you have then I adore you.

-----

Draco and Ginny had been working on defense charms for nearly two hours now. He knew that Ginny particularly relished the fact that she was acting as teacher in this scenario. They'd been steadily working through the list of hexes, jinxes, and charms that Potter had taught to his little defense club in fifth year for the past fortnight. They were nearing the end of the list now, and Ginny had been attempting to teach him the Patronus Charm for the last two hours.

"You have to think of something happy!" she growled, growing impatient with him.

Draco himself was long past impatient, and well on his way to angry. "And I told you, Weasley, I'm trying!"

Three tries later, and he still hadn't conjured a corporeal patronus. His wand only emitted vague wisps of silver vapor.

"Weasley," whined Draco, "No more."

"Oh, come on Malfoy, just one more try." She pouted prettily, making her eyes wide and doe-like.

"Fine," said Draco, thinking that her lips were very pink and highly kissable. He waved his wand lazily and said, "Expeco Patronum!"

To his surprise, a large sliver dragon exploded from the end of his wand. It soared in a neat circle around the room before hovering in front of Ginny. She clapped her hands delightedly, and the dragon blew a perfect smoke ring at her face before vanishing.

She turned to him, beaming. "I told you! What did you think of?"

Draco slid his wand into the back pocket of his trousers feeling annoyed. His happy thought would be of kissing Ginny. Cruel Fates. He hadn't even done it yet! He'd only imagined the moment in stunning detail every night before drifting off to sleep. Well that was it; he'd had enough of this pining crap. The girl couldn't plague his days and nights and expect to get away with it.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he walked to her, and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her close. "This is what I thought of," he said, and brought his lips down onto hers. She was startled for a moment, but only a moment. Her lips were soft and pliant beneath his own. Her hands were clutching his upper arms, as if she was unsure of whether she should push him away. Then her mouth opened on a moan. That was Draco's undoing. He crushed her to him, reveling in the feel of her body molding to his and the way her hair slid through his fingers. Her hands curled tightly in the fabric of his shirt. She kissed exactly the way Draco dreamt she would, hot and sweet all at once.

She pushed him away suddenly, gasping.

Draco watched her warily, waiting for her to hex him. She stood wide-eyed and breathing heavily. Her fingertips touched her lips and he wavered, taking a step forward. She was a magnet and he was steel.

"No," she whispered.

"No?" he asked dumbly.

"I can't."

"You can't?" he said, "Why not?"

She didn't answer, but took a step backwards when he moved towards her.

"Why not, Ginny?" Draco asked again, impatient to quell whatever her fears were and kiss her mouth again.

"Harry."

Draco felt as if he'd been doused with cold water, and his eyes narrowed. "Potter? You won't kiss me because of _fucking_ Potter?"

Ginny crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked away. Draco wasn't about to give up. Potter could have everything else: the quidditch glory, being the wizarding world's golden boy, but Draco would not let him win Ginny too.

"He broke up with you," said Draco, his voice rising, "He left without a _word_ to you. You owe him nothing!"

"Yes I do!" said Ginny hotly.

"What could you possibly owe him?" Draco was positively yelling now, "You spent years pining away after the specced git and now you're going to waste more time on him?"

"He _loves_ me!" she shouted.

"And do you love him?" he shouted back.

She glared at him with her fists clenched at her sides. With her hair a mess from their earlier kiss and her cheeks pink with anger, Draco wanted nothing more than to kiss Potter out of her stupid red-headed brain. "Do you love him, Ginny?" he asked, quiet and dangerous.

She was breathing hard, her brown eyes nearly black with rage. Draco took two steps towards her and yanked her body to his, crashing his lips upon hers. She attempted to push him away at first, but he was insistent, and soon she was biting his lips and pulling on his hair and shirt with equal fervor.

When breathing became too much of a necessity to keep up the assault, they broke apart. Draco rested his forehead on hers, listening to her ragged breathing.

"You can't possibly love him," Draco insisted.

"I might," said Ginny.

Draco wound his fingers through her hair and gently made her look at him, "You don't." Her eyes searched his for a long moment and she shook her head.

"No, I don't," she whispered, and touched her lips to his softly. And with that she pulled from his arms and walked out of the library, wiping at her eyes as she went.

-----

Draco threw himself into his room, slamming the door shut with such force that the wall shook. Bloody stupid girl. He picked up the nearest thing and hurled it at the opposite wall. Unfortunately it was a pillow, and the lack of destruction did nothing to alleviate his lingering anger.

He took a deep breath and sat on the edge of his bed carefully, as if slow and cautious movements would calm him. His thoughts ran wild, things he'd like to say to her (idiotic starstruck bint), things he'd like to do to her (shake her until she saw sense), went on and on, until he was left reliving the two kisses in embarrassingly girlish detail.

Gods, but she was an amazing kisser.

An hour later, he was still sitting in that spot, running a thumb lightly over his lower lip, when the door swung open and slammed against the wall. It was her, of course, flushed and still angry. He sat silently, eyes narrowing to slits. Oh yes, he'd go another round if she was game.

"I need to tell you some things, and I need you to shut up until I'm done. No sarcastic comments, no talking at all, alright?"

Draco raised his eyebrows in mocking acceptance.

She began to pace back and forth in front of him, wringing her hands and gesturing wildly, "I liked Harry practically all my life, I liked him when he was the Boy Who Lived, and I liked him when I actually got to know him. And, yes, when he finally noticed me last year I was thrilled, and I was devastated when he broke up with me.

"And you! I've hated you since I met you! You made a fool out of me in front of Harry. I hated you for picking on Harry, and making fun of Ron and Hermione. And for picking on me. You're arrogant, and mean, and you've done some pretty awful things."

She paused, and her breathing grew heavier and she made a distressed motion, "But I've gotten to know you, and I like who you are when you're not being an ass. Sometimes I even like you when you _are_ being an ass. You're nothing at all like Harry or any of the boys I've dated, and that's confusing, because how can I like them and like you? You're so different.

"But when you kissed me… I never felt like that when they kissed me," her voice had gone soft and she sat down next to him on his bed. "I think I like you more than I ever liked Harry. And that's really scary." She took a deep breath and ploughed on, "I can't believe I'm being so selfish. Harry's out there, doing Merlin knows what, and he's being totally selfless… and here I am, thinking of nothing but myself and what I want. Not what Harry wants or what Harry deserves.

"And if we…. Keep doing this it's really going to hurt Harry when he comes back. I don't want to hurt him, but…" she sighed and shook her head, "But I don't care."

Draco could no longer keep quiet. He could feel his blood racing through his veins and his skin prickling, and some emotion that could only be hope. He felt like he was going to burst, "You don't care?"

"Well, I care, but he didn't have to break up with me. He chose this, and you're right, I don't owe him anything. If I want to kiss you, then I'm going to kiss you. It has nothing at all to do with Harry. This is my choice, and I'm going to be selfish, and I'm not going to feel guilty about it."

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"So… are you going to kiss me?" he smirked at her.

She grinned, "Oh, yes."

-----

A/N: Well, I hope it was worth the wait. I totally broke my own rule with this story, which is, you always save the kiss and the getting together for the end. I had to do it, because the rest of this tale centers on how Draco and Ginny's relationship progresses. It may get slightly smutty from here on out folks. I don't know if you _can_ have a smut-free D/G story… If it gets too filthy (oh, stop your grinning!) I'll post the extended chapters in my Livejournal and give y'all the linkage.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Last I checked, my name wasn't JK Rowling, and I didn't have millions of dollars in my bank account, so I guess that means that I don't own Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy or Ginny Weasley. Sad.

A/N: I think I may need to up the rating on this story because of this chapter. It's not entirely graphic or anything, but… I don't know. If loads of sexual references aren't your bag, you may want to skip over this chapter entirely. That's basically all this is. No, that's _all _this chapter is. You've been warned.

-----

They were _supposed_ to be studying transfiguration. And that was what everyone assumed they were doing behind the locked library door. Instead Draco was nibbling a path from Ginny's ear and down her neck, learning what to do to make her moan, gasp, or curl her fingers in the fabric of his shirt. He hoped to soon find the spot that would make her rip his clothes off and do him on the chaise lounge in the corner.

He had big plans for that chaise lounge.

It had been a week since Ginny had decided she didn't care about Precious Potter, and Draco had never enjoyed Grimmauld Classes more. They started out each day attempting their actual lessons, but by the afternoon books had been pushed aside and they turned to more interesting pursuits, which involved lips and tongues and roving hands. It was unlucky, however, that just when each of them would be on the verge of losing all control, Mrs. Weasley would call them down for dinner, and they would have only moments to get a hold of themselves again. Today, her shrill voice sounded as Draco was circling Ginny's nipple with his thumb through the fabric of her shirt, and she was arching into him in a way that was both wonderful and completely maddening.

"Damn my mother," Ginny hissed, and pulled sharply away from him to rearrange her mussed clothes and hair.

Draco threw himself down on the chaise and tried to breathe normally. This scene had become all too familiar and they were well rehearsed. He forced thoughts of Professor Snape naked through his mind. Voldemort? Potter kissing Ginny… And yes, that did it.

"I have never been so frustrated in my entire life," Ginny said, and Draco noticed that she was pacing the floor. "If this keeps happening, I think I'm going to explode."

"You and me both, Weasley."

A wicked look came over her, and Draco knew he would have to subject himself to another mental image of a naked Professor Snape before going down to dinner. "Tonight then," she said in a low voice, "After dinner, during the Order meeting." She climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, just in case he needed a visual to understand what she meant. Even through four layers of clothing he could feel her heat. He repressed a moan when she rocked slightly.

"Are you sure?" he asked, and cursed himself for it. He countered this sudden lapse of thoughtfulness by grabbing her hips and thrusting sharply upwards. She gasped, and then grinned down at him.

"Draco," she said sweetly, "It's for my well being. You don't want me to explode, do you?"

"Maybe."

She arched her eyebrow and smirked, "We'll see after dinner then, won't we?" With that, she climbed off his lap and flounced from the room, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

Oh Merlin. Just like that, and he was rock hard again. That girl would be the death of him. He slung an arm over his eyes and thought of Professor Snape naked. With Professor McGonagall. And Flitwick. Ech.

Dinner was, understandably, a nightmare. Ginny was not helping matters with the way she was licking her spoon clean. He felt as though every nerve ending he possessed was on fire, and with each lick and each bite of food she pushed past her lips it grew worse and worse. Despite the fact that they were surrounded by most of her family members (including three older brothers, who Draco hadn't really considered before now, who would probably be glad to beat the life out of him if they knew the kind of thoughts he was having about their sister) Ginny seemed to be enjoying her little game immensely. Nervousness at being discovered, and the frustration of five days of repressed sexual energy were catching up with him at the dinner table in front of everyone. He could not stop staring at her, could not stop his hand from shaking, could not stop the fork from falling from his fingers and clattering loudly on his plate.

Ginny smirked delightedly. Evil, evil bint.

And then, it got worse.

"So Gin," one of the twins asked, "Are you and Harry still going out?"

She cast him a dark look, "No."

"You chucked the Chosen One?"

"He chucked me," she said slowly, dangerously. Draco would have stopped there.

The twins exchanged a look, and then glared simultaneously at Draco. Ah, so it _was_ that obvious. "And now what," one of them said to her, "You're going for our resident reformed Death Eater?" Draco scowled and fingered his wand. He'd like very much to hex both of them into next week.

"Fred!" his mother scolded.

"He's _not_ a Death Eater," Ginny said hotly.

"Yeah," George said nastily, ignoring his mother, "But he's still pretty close, isn't he?"

Ginny rose from her chair slowly, radiating anger, and pulled her wand.

"Gin, no!" said Bill.

"Ginevra Molly—" but her mother could do nothing to stop her.

Fred and George exchange a horrified glace, knowing that they'd pushed their little sister too far, and scrambled out of their chairs, running for the door. But she had already cast two Bat-Bogey hexes at their retreating backs, and then they were cursing and swiping the air fruitlessly at the large sticky bats that were beating at their heads. She arched a pleased eyebrow at Draco, who smirked back. He moved towards her, and took in her handiwork.

"It really is a cool spell," he remarked calmly.

"It's very satisfying," she replied in a similar tone.

"Looks better from this vantage point, too."

She smiled up at him, clearly not sorry for the time she had hexed him, but he grinned back all the same.

Bill sighed heavily and took the spell off the twins, "You always leave it on too long, Gin."

"They deserved it."

"Yes, they did," and Bill winked at her, as he herded the chagrined and sticky twins from the room.

Molly, who had been in a state of bewilderment at the events, snapped to action, and said, "Arthur…"

Arthur approached Draco hesitantly at Molly's silent urging, and asked, "Draco, may I have a word with you?"

"Ginny, go upstairs!" Ginny rolled her eyes and went.

-----

Arthur ushered Draco into a seldom used sitting room off the foyer. The room would have once been considered elegant, but the moth-eaten Victorian motif did nothing to ease Draco's growing feeling of unease. He sat on a dark velvet couch and Arthur paced nervously in front of him. Draco toyed with the tassels on the edge of a brocade pillow, and the silence grew more and more awkward.

"Molly asked me to talk to you, because… well, she's noticed that you and Ginny have been getting on rather well lately, and…" he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "You think I'd be good at this," Arthur said suddenly, "I've given this speech six times in my life…"

Oh no, no no, Draco thought. He wasn't really going to give him _the talk_, was he? What was he supposed to say? Sorry, Mr. Weasley, but this speech has come a little late. Oh, and by the way, your only daughter is waiting for me in the library so I can have my wicked way with her. Not bloody likely.

And then Arthur was off, talking about being responsible and using the proper charms to prevent pregnancy and disease. And then, horror of horrors, he was describing body parts and the mechanics of arousal, and Draco had never felt more revolted in his life. He wanted to plug his fingers in his ears and sing the Hogwarts school song as loudly as he could. Anything, anything at all to avoid hearing this. Had it been his own father saying these things he would have been sneering and snapping, but as it was Ginny's father, he was staring at his shoes and wishing desperately that this would be over quickly.

It seemed that Ginny had gotten her tendency to ramble when nervous from her father, and that didn't bode well for Draco. Oh, Merlin. Did he really just say, 'intercourse'?

It felt like hours, but it was probably only fifteen minutes later when a soft knock came from the door. Draco's head shot up. Salvation was at hand! Molly peaked her head around the door, and asked, "Everything going well in here?"

"Just fine, Molly," Arthur said, "Is the meeting starting?"

"Yes, in just a minute."

"Ah, good then," he said, and patted Draco on the shoulder in a fatherly sort of way before walking to the door. Molly sent a warm smile Draco's way, and then they were both gone. Draco groaned, and buried his face in his hands. He tried without success to push the words and mental images Arthur had evoked out of his mind. If the Dark Lord had known of this type of torture, he certainly would have used it on Draco last summer.

-----

Draco opened the library door in a daze. Ginny was perched on the edge of the table, swinging her feet and clutching the edge with white knuckles. She was the very picture of eagerness and apprehension, and in other circumstances he would have been incredibly aroused. He had to look away. He felt ten different kinds of awkward.

"Are you okay?" she asked, "What did my Dad want to talk to you about?"

Draco scrubbed at his eyes and struggled to get the words out, "He… he… oh, Merlin. He gave me _the talk_."

Her eyes widened in alarm, "He did not."

"Oh, oh yes he did. He said things like intercourse, and penis, and vagina, and clitoris… He was very _descriptive_," Draco shuddered, "And I don't think I ever want to have sex again."

Ginny looked entirely weirded out and could only nod. He sat down heavily in the chair nearest to her. "Can we practice some charms or something? Anything? If I think about this any more I think I may be permanently scarred."

She grabbed onto his suggestion like a lifeline, "Yes. God, yes." She leapt off the table and plucked a large charms encyclopedia from a shelf. It had the spells arranged in order of difficulty, and she flipped straight to the back of the book.

"Maybe we could try _Obliviate_?" he suggested hopefully.

"Alright, here, lets try the… no, not that one, then."

He looked at her wearily, "What is it?" and pulled the book towards himself. _Contraceptive spell_, the book proclaimed in large, bold, flowing script. Lovely. The universe was laughing at them. He scowled, and felt defiance surge through him. Well, take this universe. "Do it," he said.

"Hm?"

"The spell. Do it."

She raised her eyebrows, but took the book back and read the directions. She practiced the wand movement in the air once, then pointed the wand at her abdomen and muttered the charm under her breath. He frowned. It had worked. She was good, but not _that_ good.

Draco stood, and advanced towards her slowly, "You've done that before."

"Yes."

"Needed a bit of a refresher?" he teased.

"It's been awhile."

"Hm," he said, and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Not with Potter then?"

The corner of her lip quirked, "No."

Oh, triumph was sweet. Draco Malfoy had finally gotten to the snitch first. He bit back a grin and asked, "Thomas?"

"Yes. You?"

"Pansy."

She nodded, and he loved her a little for not making a face at that. Then he kissed her.

"Do you need a bit of a sex education refresher, Ginny?" he whispered into her ear. She shivered. "Because I'm all up to date."

"Please don't make references to my father right now."

"Right," he murmured, and pushed her with his lips and hands over to the chaise lounge in the corner. He laid her down and proceeded to reacquaint her with bits of her own anatomy, and she returned the favor with wild, incredible enthusiasm.

-----

A/N: Sorry for the cop-out, but guys... I'm a smut posting virgin. And I just couldn't get myself to write it. I know, I know, I'm a failure. hangs head I hope the rest of it was good enough, in any case.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Do I really need to do this for every damn chapter?

A/N: This one is short, but it's fun, and we'll need a bit of fun before I subject you all to the angst that's to come.

-----

"Ginny, what's the next step?"

"Hmm?" she asked, lifting her head off her arms.

He sighed. She was always doing this during their potions studies, "You know, this is your worst subject."

She waved a hand negligently at him and put her head back down.

"You're going to fail your NEWT."

"I will not."

"Yes, you will. You'll get a T," he taunted.

"I won't get a T," she said hotly, raising her head.

"You'll get a T, and then what will your mother say?"

She growled, and rose from her seat, and walked to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To the kitchen," she said obnoxiously, "I'm hungry."

"But what about the potion? What's the next step?"

"I don't know!"

"It's going to melt the cauldron if you don't tell me—"

"Gods, Draco, it's not going to melt the damn cauldron. It's the Draught of Living Death not the Wolfsbane Potion!" and with that, she stalked out of the room. How did she know that anyway? They hadn't even gotten to the Wolfsbane Potion yet.

He smirked to himself. She was gorgeous when she was angry. He waltzed over to the open potions book on the table, and read the directions for the next step, which was to add the powdered root of asphodel. He ran his fingers over the jars of ingredients and found the asphodel. He measured a careful spoonful of the white powder and stirred it into the cauldron. He waited for the asphodel to dissolve, and his thoughts meandered to later when he and Ginny would 'make up.' He grinned.

Then he noticed that something very strange was happening to his potion. It had turned jelly-like and green, and that wasn't right at all. He stared at it in alarm, and suddenly, the green goo erupted from the cauldron and splattered everywhere. Which was mostly all over Draco. He was frozen in shock. What the hell had just happened?

"What was that noise? Oh my—"

Ginny had come back.

"What the hell did you do?" she asked.

"Nothing!"

"Well, you obviously must have done something!"

"No!" he snarled, "I put the asphodel in and then this…"

She shot him a disbelieving look and went over to their store of ingredients. She fingered through them and froze. A dark, dark look came over her face, and she picked up a small empty box.

"What is it?"

"Thirty second potion destroyer. Guaranteed to end any unhappy potions class. Courtesy of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

Okay, he thought, but why was that in here anyway?

"The twins did this!" she screeched, "I can't believe they're doing this! And after I Bat-Bogeyed them!" The look on her face made Draco take a step back.

Ginny noticed and asked, "What?"

"You're really scary. I think you just morphed into your mother."

She gasped and looked like she might attack him, "Oh, you take that back right now!"

"You're doing it again."

She huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. "You know, I'm angry on _your_ behalf. Would you rather I was angry at you?"

"Definitely not."

"Alright then. How are we going to get back at them? It's got to be _really_ good."

"We're going to prank your brothers?"

"Yes! They deserve it," she said fiercely, "They've been doing this for years. You don't even want to know what they did to Michael Corner…"

"Do tell. I'd like to do it to Potter when he gets back."

She laughed, rolling her eyes, and said, "Draco, _you_ got the girl. You don't need to hurt Harry."

"Oh yeah, that's right," he said smugly, moving to wrap his arms around her waist.

"Don't touch me!" she squealed, "You're covered in goo!" He made a whining noise, and she giggled. "Go take a shower, then we can plot… and snog!"

"Promise?"

"Yes! Go!"

He went, but not before he kissed her cheek and left a trail of green goo across her face.

-----

It had taken multiple scrubbings, but he was finally free of the dreaded green goo. He walked down the hall to his room, wearing a fluffy blue bathrobe and absently drying his hair. What was the best way to get back at Fred and George? He knew it would have to be something show stopping, something so amazingly creative and bordering on evil to get the twins to back down. But how could they defeat the infamous Fred and George Weasley? He really wasn't the most creative guy (cunning, yes, creative, no), and Draco would admit freely that his preferred method of attack was a hex when his opponent's back was turned. He knew that would not work on the twins. At least, not for very long.

He entered his room, shutting the door behind him. The towel was tossed onto a chair, and he hung his robe up on a hook. This was really a nearly impossible task, he thought to himself, flopping down gracelessly on the bed. The twins weren't even around the house enough to prank easily. How were they going to—

_Poof!_

He yelped as his bed suddenly exploded into thousands of tiny white feathers. Oh, for gods sake.

"Ginny!" he yelled, not bothering to move. The air was filled with floating bits of fluff. It settled down around him and on him, and he heaved a great sigh. Sabotaged again. "Gin!"

"What? Oh, Merlin," she said, taking in the scene.

"My bed exploded," he explained.

She kicked the door shut behind her. "No, I think it was your pillows and blankets. And your mattress."

He only nodded, and continued to stare at the ceiling. What else did the twins have in store for him? He felt very resigned all of a sudden. They'd just keep up this stuff until he broke up with her. It wouldn't work, so he was perhaps doomed to suffer this fate for the rest of his life.

"Hey," she said slyly, "Are you naked under all that?"

He looked up at her, and said defensively, "I like to air dry."

She grinned and plopped down next to him, and the feathers whooshed into the air once more. He watched them settle into her hair. It was a lovely effect.

"Know what would really piss them off?"

"What?"

"If we used this to our advantage," she said, and kissed him deeply.

Oh, he _did_ like the way her mind worked, and he moved them both until she was pinned beneath him, her hair fanned out over the feathers.

-----

That night at dinner, Draco said theatrically, "Ginny, you've got something in your hair," and reached across the table to pluck a wayward feather from it. Fred and George glanced their way, and Ginny sent them a sweet, taunting smile. They scowled at Draco, who had begun to run the tip of the feather lovingly across her cheek.

That was the end of the pranks.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Draco Malfoy is not mine, but I like to pretend that he is sometimes. Is that so wrong?

A/N: And here's the promised angst. I've just finished writing it and I feel a little morose myself. Sniff.

-----

Dinner that Wednesday night started innocuously enough. Ginny was flirting subtly with him from across the table, and he was nearly deaf to all the conversations that were going on around them, until his brain registered the rather interesting conversation Tonks and Lupin were having.

"I don't know what we're going to do about it," Tonks said. She was obviously distressed, and Draco turned his attention from Ginny to his cousin. It was strange to him that she was such a close relation and they'd never met before he was sent to this house. Had Tonks's mother not married a muggle-born wizard, they probably would have grown up together, or would have at least seen each other at Christmas. He had the vague feeling that he'd missed out on something.

"You're sure it's 'The Troll' then?" asked Remus.

"Yeah," she said, picking at her vegetables. "He leaves the same calling card at each scene. If we only knew who this guy was we might be able to stop him from killing more muggle-borns."

"The Troll?" Draco asked, despite himself.

Tonks looked around at him, as though she had completely forgotten that he and Ginny were there. This was apparently inside Order information.

"Yeah," she said slowly.

"What does the calling card look like?"

She struggled with herself, and then shrugged, deciding that he wasn't a threat if he couldn't leave the house anyway, "It's always the same, a roughly made wooden troll about two inches tall. There's no real detail on it, just vague features."

"And you think this guy is working for Voldemort?" he asked.

"We're sure of it."

Draco slowly spun his fork through his mashed potatoes. What he was contemplating doing would have gotten him killed if he had joined up with the Death Eaters. Being a traitor usually did. As it was though, he had no mark on his arm, and though he hated to think about it, he was deeply indebted to the Order for keeping him safe all these months. He looked at Ginny, who was watching him with a curious expression on her face. He owed them for her too.

"I think I know who he is," he said.

"What?" Tonks asked, surprised, "Who? How?"

He bit his lip. Greg Goyle had been his friend, and yet… "It's got to be Gregory Goyle. 'The Troll' was his nickname. Or at least, what he wanted his nickname to be. We'd never call him that, just to piss him off. And the calling card you're talking about, he used to have a chess set that looked like that."

"Yes, they're chess pieces, that's the thing we never told the public!" she said excitedly, "Oh, darling cousin of mine, you're amazing!" And she leaned over to kiss him quickly on the cheek. He smiled weakly, feeling really despicable for some reason. "Thank you, Drake!" She rushed from the room, apparently to go to Auror Headquarters.

Ginny was watching him in wonder, and he really couldn't take that look right now. He couldn't take hearing that he'd done the right thing when he'd just betrayed someone who used to be one of his best friends. He pushed back from the table and said, "I'm going to go to bed."

Ginny called after him, but he didn't acknowledge her. He'd talk to her later. He'd let her kiss him, and hug him, and tell him how proud she was, and all that rot, but he just _couldn't_ right now. He shut his bedroom door behind him, and lay down on his bed. He stared at the ceiling and thought about Greg, and tried to reconcile with the fact that his great boulder of a friend had become a murderer.

It was strange, he thought. After he, Greg, and Vince had discovered that Voldemort was back, they had spoken to each other in hushed voices about how they were going to become Death Eaters one day, and Draco had been the most excited of all of them. At least, until he had nearly become one, and had realized that he just wasn't cut out for it. Voldemort was evil, truly evil, and he wanted people to die. And up until his sixth year, Draco had thought that he shared those same beliefs. But then things grew difficult, and his father was in prison, and Voldemort had been angry, and Draco had spent hours staring at a broken cabinet and thinking about what his life had become. And for a while, all he knew was that it sucked, but that he had to do it, had to do what Voldemort had asked, because if he failed then his mother would die. But he had allowed himself to think some more, about how he had come to that point, and he realized that it was all his father's fault. His father had taught him to hate Muggles and Mudbloods. His father had told him that Voldemort's way was the only way, but Draco had started to think that maybe Voldemort's way wasn't the greatest thing ever. Maybe it was the worst. And then the time had come to prove his worth to the Dark side's cause, and he hadn't been able to do it.

But apparently Greg had.

He wasn't sure how he should feel, but he sort of hated himself for giving Tonks that information.

-----

The next day, he didn't feel like studying or up to talking about it with Ginny, so he avoided the library. She must be the most patient girl ever not to seek him out. He appreciated it, as he didn't want to end up taking out his foul mood on her. Tonks, however, found him in the sitting room off the foyer, staring out the window.

"Draco?" she said tentatively as knocked uselessly on the open door.

He glanced at her, and then back out the window, "Did you get him?"

"Yeah," she said quietly, "They're going to hold him in Azkaban until his trial."

"Voldemort will try to break him out," he said, not really caring either way.

"Probably," she admitted. The silence stretched on for a bit, and then she put her hand on his shoulder, "I know that telling me about him was hard for you, and I want you to know that I really appreciate it."

"Yeah," he said, "No problem."

She sat on the couch behind him. He wished that she would just leave. But she stayed. It took five minutes, but the words finally tumbled out of him.

"I feel like I betrayed him."

She cocked her head to one side, and didn't say anything. He couldn't read her expression. "I feel like a traitor, even though I'm not on their side anymore. I don't _want_ to be on their side. But I don't know if I want to be on your side either."

He kicked morosely at the wall, and then sat next to her.

"There will come a time when you have to choose, you know," she said.

He looked over at her, and said harshly, "I'm not going to choose their side."

"I know. And someday you'll be ready to choose ours."

He exhaled sharply from his nose. He wasn't sure that he was cut out to be on their side either. She hugged him then, and after a moment he hugged her back. It was the sort of hug his mother had given him when he fell off his broom when he was little, and he felt a lump start to form in his throat.

She pulled away and said in a flippant tone, "Got any more juicy insider information for me?"

He snorted, and felt entirely grateful to her for trying to be funny, "I don't think so."

-----

Ginny was in the library, standing with her back to him. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and buried his face in her hair. She started, and then relaxed into his chest when she realized that it was him.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He shook his head, and his nose brushed against her neck. She turned in his arms and hugged him fiercely.

"He was my friend, Ginny, and I just—"

"I know," she said, and he buried his face in her neck. He couldn't stop the tears that came hot and fast, but he pushed down on the sobs that threatened to erupt from his chest.

"I gave him up."

"I know."

She made him move over to the chaise, and they sat down on it and he wrapped his arms around her. He didn't want to ever let go of her. She kissed him softly, and held him tight.

"It was really, really brave of you," she said.

"No," he said, "It wasn't brave."

"Yes it was," she insisted, "You had to completely turn your back on everything they made you believe. It made you have to start over. It made you have to start thinking for yourself. What _you_ believe in."

"I don't know what I believe anymore." He felt so empty, and the only thing that was grounding him was Ginny.

"You'll figure it all out," she said.

"Ginny," he said, feeling dread spreading through him, "I may never believe in the same things you believe in. I'll _never_ be good. I'll always be a Malfoy. I'll always be a Slytherin. I'll always have this… dark in me. You know that, don't you?"

Her lips parted, and maybe he was crazy, but her eyes were saying that she loved him. "Draco, I want to be with you. No matter what you believe in." She looked so sure, so fierce, that he had to believe her. He couldn't bear not to.

-----

A/N: FFnet isn't sending out alerts it seems, so I heartily apologize if you haven't gotten a reply to your review. I did reply though, and I told you that you were amazing for being a reviewer and that I adore you. Or something to that effect… :) I really appreciate every review I've gotten, and I don't want you all to think I'm ungrateful. So, please stick with me through the angst-fest that this story is becoming. If you want to be sure to know when I update any of my stories, feel free to friend me on LJ!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Nope, they don't belong to me, and it makes me sad. But writing fic about them brings me great joy, so I'll be alright. Thanks for your concern.

A/N: I loved writing this chapter. It's wicked long, and Draco was cooperating ever so well. There's a teensy bit of sex in this chapter, so skip over it if that sort of thing bugs you. I'm quite proud of myself for writing it though… Anyway, enjoy. :)

-----

It was Tuesday afternoon, only a few days before Christmas, and Draco was skimming through his charms textbook. His feet were on the table and he was leaning back precariously in his chair. Ginny was across the table from him, pouring over Hermione's notes, curled up like a cat. A yell from downstairs caused them to look simultaneously at the door. It was Mrs. Weasley who was yelling, which wasn't all that odd in and of itself, but what she was saying caused a tendril of dread to curl in Draco's stomach.

"Ronald Weasley! Where have you been?!"

The Trio was back.

Ginny caught Draco's eyes and smiled weakly. He knew what she meant. The honeymoon is over. Draco tried to return the smile, but found he couldn't. He'd been dreading this. Potter was back, and in the space of a few seconds everything had changed.

Ginny was looking at her notes again, but Draco could tell she wasn't seeing them. Her quill tapped out a nervous rhythm.

"Are you going to tell them?" he asked.

Her eyes locked on his, "Of course I'm going to tell them." She swallowed, "They're just not going to be very happy about it."

That was the understatement of the century, thought Draco.

"You should go greet them," he said quietly, "They'll think something's up if you don't."

Ginny sighed and stood. She regarded him for a moment before walking to him and kissing him softly. "Everything's going to be alright."

He stood swiftly and kissed her hard. She seemed stunned at first, but recovered quickly and bit his lip lightly. He pulled away from her mouth and growled in her ear, "Potter better keep his bloody hands off you."

She grinned maddeningly at him and left him alone with his thoughts.

Not for the first time in his life, Draco felt very unsure of himself. He ran his hands through his hair. Would she stay with him? Or would she go back to Potter? Neither of them had so much as mentioned Harry since the day of their first kiss, and Draco was unsure about where Ginny stood. He didn't think she was a fickle girl, but her loyalty towards him hadn't been tested yet. Did she even owe him that? They hadn't been together very long, and the subject of what exactly they were to each other hadn't come up. It hadn't been necessary before today. It wasn't as if either of them had many options.

Anger bubbled up in his chest. He grabbed a bottle of ink off the table and hurled it at the wall. It shattered magnificently, leaving behind a dripping black explosion.

Draco sat moodily in his chair and slammed his charms textbook shut. Damn Potter! Damn him for coming back and giving Ginny the chance to choose.

From downstairs came the sound of Ginny's laughter, and Draco's stomach turned over unpleasantly.

He couldn't lose her now, not when he thought that he might… Well, he thought he might love her. He pressed his palms to his eyes. He could feel a horrible headache coming on.

----

Dinner that night was predictably awkward. Draco had started to sit down in his usual chair across from Ginny, but quickly redirected himself to sit at the other end of the table. She frowned, hurt. He threw himself into a chair next to Lupin where he wouldn't be able to make eye contact with her. Lupin raised an eyebrow at Draco's apparent temper, but didn't comment.

The Trio entered the kitchen shortly after. Harry scowled at Draco, Ron glared, and Hermione ignored him. Draco watched them silently, wishing that they'd just go back to wherever they had been. The rest of the group talked, joked, and laughed as dinner wore on. Draco sat silently on the fringe. Lupin had tried to include him at one point, but only received a grunt from Draco in response. For the first time since he had come to Grimmauld Place, he did not enjoy Mrs. Weasley's cooking.

Draco looked up from his plate and saw Potter looking at Ginny. The expression on his face was one Draco knew all too well. He wanted her. Feeling the sudden urge to hurl his dinner fork in Potter's direction, he pushed back from the table and stalked from the kitchen. It wouldn't do to harm Perfect Potter in a room filled with Order members.

"What's up with him?" he heard Fred ask.

Draco slammed the door to his room so hard that a painting fell from the wall. The inhabitant, a young boy, yelped in indignation. Draco hadn't felt this angry since Potter had caught him crying in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He threw himself onto his bed, trying to master his emotions. His fists clenched and unclenched as he thought of Potter. He had no right. No right at all to come back after being gone for months and expect Ginny to jump back into his arms. At that unpleasant visual, Draco growled and strode to his desk. A very old, and no doubt expensive vase found itself in shards.

'And if she _wanted_ to jump back into Potter's arms?' a tiny voice in the back of his mind asked. An ink bottle was hurled at the wall, quickly followed by three heavy books.

"Oh, yeah. Those books had it coming."

Draco whirled around to see a blonde haired Tonks leaning casually against the doorjamb. He felt his anger fall away, and it was quickly replaced by embarrassment. Certainly Perfect Potter didn't break things when he was angry. Potter didn't join up with the Death Eaters. Potter wasn't a filthy Slytherin with a horrible father who'd seen to it that Ginny was possessed by the Dark Lord when she was merely eleven. Ginny deserved better than him.

Tonks was looking at him now with concern, and to Draco's horror he felt a lump forming in his throat. He would not cry. _He would not cry_.

Then Tonks was walking towards him, and putting an arm around his shoulders, and asking what had gotten his panties in a bunch. He took a deep shuddering breath, and said, "Nothing. I'm fine."

Tonks made a tuh-ing sound, "Come on, Drake."

"I hate it when people call me Drake."

"That's why I do it," she said with a smile, "Seriously though, you can talk to me if you want. We're family. I'm honor bound to keep your secrets."

Draco shook his head and repaired the vase with a flick of his wand.

"So you're forcing me to guess?" said Tonks, moving to shut his bedroom door. "Let's see… everything was fine yesterday, so I'm guessing this is because Harry, Ron, and Hermione are back." She sat down on his bed, cross-legged, like a little girl at a slumber party who was eager for a game of truth or dare.

Draco rolled his eyes, was she really going to make him do this?

"But you haven't fought with them yet, so that's not it… Or is it something to do with Ginny?"

Draco leveled a hard stare at her, "You know damn well that it's got something to do with Ginny."

"You're worried about things now that Harry's back?"

"Of course I am!" Draco exploded, "He waltzes back here and looks at her like… like…"

"Like you look at her?"

"Yes! Like he expects her to just forgive him for disappearing and not telling her where he was going or why. And he never wrote her! Can you believe that? And he expects her to just go back to snogging him! No apology required."

"Do you really think she'd do that to you?"

Draco shrugged, and kicked weakly at the carpet. No, he didn't think Ginny would be that cruel, but there was a niggling doubt that said Potter was the one she'd wanted for so long, and no matter what he did, he always seemed to fall short of besting Harry Potter. He was worried that this would end up being another on that long list of moments.

"Draco, I've seen how you and Ginny are together, and I think you two have something really special. I know you think that it was just circumstance that brought you together, both of you being cooped up in this house, but… You found each other in the middle of this horrible war, and you both had so much personal crap to overcome to get to the point where you could be together. You guys have fought through all the hard stuff already, this is just a bump."

"A bump who she used to be in love with."

"Now, Draco," Tonks said smiling, "Was she really in love with him?"

"No. She _said_ she wasn't."

"I think that's the problem. You're used to being screwed over and manipulated. But she's a Gryffindor, Drake. They're all honest and trustworthy. You're not in the Slytherin dungeon anymore. Just, you know, don't give into your Slytherin tendency to expect the worst."

"Well, I'm not going to _try_ to mess this up," he said, exasperated.

"Because you love her?"

Draco just looked at her, but she grinned and nodded knowingly. She stood patted his shoulder and said in a low voice, "You know, I always wanted a lovesick little brother. I like giving advice."

In spite of himself, he laughed. He'd never admit it, but he was sort of glad he had Tonks to act as his obnoxious older sister.

-----

Ginny had not come to see him last night, and she was not yet in the library either. Draco scowled. He'd decided to skip breakfast this morning, as he thought it best not to tempt fate. If he saw that look on Potter's face again, he wasn't sure that he could restrain himself. He picked up his transfiguration textbook and eyed the chaise in the corner. Neither of them ever sat there to study, and it would certainly send Ginny a message when she entered the door. He sat down on it, feeling smug. He wanted her horny and on his side today. He was determined to keep her.

He read several pages before someone entered the library, but it wasn't Ginny. It was the Golden Trio. He glared at them, and turned back to his book, as if he didn't care that they even existed.

"What are you doing in here, Malfoy?" asked Ron in an all too hostile tone for this early hour.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Weasel?" he asked, carefully turning a page and not looking up.

"Well, get the hell out—"

"Ron, cut it out," said Ginny, as she breezed through the door, and froze a bit when she caught sight of Draco lounging in the corner. Her lips parted slightly, and it seemed she found it difficult to look away. He smirked. "This is where Draco and I study every day, so really, you're the one intruding."

"Draco?" Ron asked incredulously, "It's _Draco_ now?"

Ginny heaved a long-suffering sigh, and sat down at the table, flipping open a book at random. "What are you guys doing in here anyway?"

"Just looking for something," Hermione said, and Ginny rolled her eyes, as if this was something that she was used to but still annoyed her greatly. Draco had a new found appreciation for the kind of crap she had to put up with from these three. "Who organized this library anyhow?" asked Hermione, sounding extremely peeved.

Ginny grinned slightly, and chanced a look at Draco, who was biting his lip to keep from looking too pleased. They chose not to help.

Hermione continued to grumble and made Harry and Ron fan out the search, without ever actually saying what she was looking for. Five minutes later, and they still hadn't found it, whatever it was, and Draco was growing annoyed. He was trying to study here. Ginny was clenching her jaw and staring sightlessly at the book in front of her, and then she said, in her faux sweet innocent voice, "Are you guys looking for the book on horcruxes?" The trio froze, and turned to look at her. She should have been a Slytherin, Draco thought. Her expression was perfectly bored and disinterested.

"How do you know about the horcruxes?" Harry asked.

Her façade broke, and Ginny flew from her chair and expertly found the book and tossed it at Harry, "There," she said harshly, "Now get the hell out. You're all driving me nuts."

"Ginny, how did you know?" Hermione asked urgently.

Ginny ignored her question and said icily, "Maybe you three ought to learn to get over yourselves, and actually _trust_ people who are on your side, and not keep them all in the dark! Maybe you wouldn't have wasted nearly four months looking for things that you don't even know how to destroy! Maybe you shouldn't act like you're the only three people fighting this fucking war! Now get the hell out."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked stricken. Merlin, Draco thought, but he was going to have to get her to teach him how to the put the Trio in their place like that. It was excellent. _She_ was excellent.

"Ginny…" said Hermione weakly.

"No," Ginny said, "I'm sick of all this shit, and I want you to leave Draco and I alone."

"Draco and I?" asked Ron, finding his own Weasley temper again.

"Yes, Ron! Draco and I. _Draco and I._ Get used to it."

"Get used to it?" Was the Weasel incapable of doing anything but repeating his sister's words? Did he have an original thought in his head?

"Yes!" Ginny exploded, "We're together! We're fucking dating or seeing each other or whatever!"

Draco raised his eyebrows. He was pretty sure _that_ wasn't the way she had been planning on telling them.

Hermione's mouth had fallen open, Ron's mouth was working soundlessly, but Harry seemed to have frozen, and then his eyes traveled slowly to Draco's. And wow, Draco had never seen that look on Potter's face before, and it was really, really satisfying. And then he had to stand up, because Harry was striding towards him, radiating with absolute fury.

"What are you going to do, Potter?" Draco drawled, but he wasn't able to get out anything else, because Harry's fist was smashing itself into his eye. Draco stumbled backwards, landing awkwardly on the chaise, and then Ginny was screaming and Hermione was holding Ron back and then Harry was on top of him, shouting, "You fucking bastard!" and punching Draco wherever he could reach, and then Draco was punching back.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Ginny was shouting, and when Draco noticed that she was crying he stopped, and got a punch to the stomach for the trouble. Then Harry backed off, holding his swollen hand.

"Stop," Ginny sobbed, "Just stop." And she moved to stand between himself and Harry.

"He's only with you to piss me off," Harry said harshly, breathing hard. "That's what he does, Ginny. Whatever he's told you, whatever he's said to you, he doesn't really care about you."

Draco swelled with new rage, and moved sharply to get at Potter again. He was stopped by Ginny, who had put her hands on his chest and pushed him back. "No, it's not true," she said softly, and he wasn't sure if she was talking to him or to herself.

"Get out, Harry."

"Ginny, please, just listen—"

"Get out!" she wailed, and Draco wrapped his arms around her when she erupted into deep gulping sobs.

Hermione put a tentative hand on Harry's arm and said, "Harry, come on. You can talk to her later." Draco thought he wouldn't, if he had anything to say about it. But Harry went, casting a dark look at Draco with Ginny in his arms before stalking out the door. Ron looked like he very much wanted to say something scathing, but Hermione shoved him out the door, before shutting it behind her.

Ginny pulled him closer and said into his shoulder, "Gods, that was not supposed to happen. I'm so sorry."

He shook his head. Draco had been expecting a fight. If he'd been in Potter's shoes, he would have done worse. "Come on, love," he said and maneuvered them both to sit on the chaise, Ginny in his lap. He kissed her ear and caught a lock of her hair between his fingers. Then she was kissing him, and her tears were on his face and his eye hurt like hell, but he really didn't care, because Ginny's mouth was hot and demanding and she was pulling his clothes off.

He fired a locking charm at the door and put a silencing spell on the room. She threw his shirt to the floor and pushed him down on the chaise, kissed his chest and shoulders and neck. He couldn't stand it, so he pushed her back and yanked her shirt over her head and unsnapped her bra, and took one of her perfectly pink nipples into his mouth and felt her moan go directly to his groin. Jeans and underwear were shucked away, and then he was inside her again, and gods, was she always this perfect? She arched and moaned beneath him, and said, "Faster," and he complied without hesitation. He thrust into her until he was so close, so close, and he could tell that she was too, from the way she was biting her lip and groaning, "Gods, yes…" He reached a hand between them and found her nub, ran his thumb in a quick circle around it, and then she was mewling and contracting all around him, and he came hard, shuddering over her.

He came to after several long moments, and realized that he had collapsed on her, and they were in a very odd position on the chaise. "Sorry, Gin," he said and moved slightly, but she stopped him.

"Don't you dare move," she said, and her voice was rough and sated, and he loved it. She brushed his hair back, and looked at him with heavy lidded eyes like she was searching for the answer to a question she didn't want to ask. She frowned, "Your eye is going to turn purple."

"It'll heal."

She bit her lip, "I'm sorry he did that."

"You don't have to apologize for him."

"No, but if I hadn't just screamed it like that… like I was using it to hurt him…" she looked away, like she was disappointed with herself.

"Hey," he said, touching a finger to the side of her chin so she'd turn back, "It's over. At least it's done, right?"

She nodded, but didn't look convinced. They got up a few minutes later, slowly pulling their clothes back on. She was worrying her bottom lip again, and looked like she was miles away. Draco didn't like that look. He reached for her hand, "Ginny, what is it?"

She looked at him with great dark eyes threatening tears, "Draco… you're not with me… just to get to Harry, are you?"

He gaped. Seriously? She believed Potter when he said that? He felt a tightening in his gut and a fresh urge to punch Harry Potter, and said, "Gin, no. I—" he knew the words were true, but he could not bring himself to say them unless he knew for certain that she would not leave him. But he had to make her understand.

"Ginny, you're all I have left. You're it. But even if you weren't, even if I had a world of girls to choose from, I'd still choose you."

She smiled waterily and pulled his head to hers in a hard kiss. She laughed when they broke apart and said, "You're so smooth."

He grinned smugly, "Well, I am a Malfoy."

"Prat."

"Harlot."

She smirked, "But I'm your harlot."

"Too right, you are," he smiled and tucked a lock of her hair behind an ear.

Ginny pulled him close and buried her face in his neck. Draco held her and stroked her hair. He breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't gone back to Potter. She'd chosen him. If it had been befitting a Malfoy he would have done a little dance, but as it wasn't he kissed the top of her head and shut his eyes, reveling in the sandalwood scent of her hair.

-----

A/N: Oh, the drama. I've taken a little break from both of my WIP's… I'm writing a long, extremely smutty D/G one-shot. I felt that it was best to just jump in to the deep end of the pool, and it's going rather well I think. I'll never be able to post it at FFnet, cause if I were to cut out all the non-sex parts… well, there wouldn't be a whole lot of it left, but I will put it on my LJ and if I can find a thorough beta I may even be brave enough to post it over at dracoandginny dot com. So the short of it is, that I apologize if it takes me awhile to get the next chapter of this or of Everything in Disarray up, I just need some time to figure out what's going to happen next. :) I hope you guys have gotten replies to your reviews… and lets all cross our fingers for working alerts… :)


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but Draco Malfoy seems to have taken up residence in my head. I don't own him either.

A/N: Oi! Angstiness and a bit of fluff ahead. This will be the last of the good feelings for awhile… sorry.

-----

Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago, but Draco and Ginny were on the couch by the kitchen fire. The room was dark, lit only by the fire and the fairy lights twinkling on the Christmas tree. Ginny was stretched out across the couch with her head pillowed in Draco's lap. It hadn't exactly been the best Christmas Eve he'd ever had. Harry and Ron were giving Ginny the cold shoulder, and Hermione didn't seem to know who to side with. And none of them had been exactly civil with him, either. The atmosphere in the house had been tense all day, and he and Ginny were both glad to find a bit of solitude and peace at last. He was idly playing with her hair, and she was making paper chains in the air with her wand. A quick flick made the last chain wrap neatly around the bottom of the tree.

"It looks nice," she said.

"It's missing something."

"What?"

"Ornaments? We always had the tree at the manor covered in crystal balls."

She smiled up at him, and wordlessly made a delicate green glass ornament. She zoomed it to the tree and proceeded to make a silver one. He grinned; surely everyone else would appreciate the Christmas tree being decorated in Slytherin colors.

"Why are you so good at that?" he asked curiously, "It's almost unnatural how quickly you pick things up." He'd wanted to ask her that for quite some time. At first, he had found her talent infuriating, but then he had just found it puzzling.

She looked away and bit her lip. He curled a lock of her hair around his finger and waited.

"You don't have to tell me," he said finally.

"No," she said, "If I was going to tell anyone it would be you, Draco. No, I want to tell you. I just don't know how to start."

"We've got nothing but time," he said. Dawn wasn't for hours yet.

She looked at the Christmas tree, and he saw the twinkling lights reflected in her eyes. "Remember when I told you that I'd opened the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Yes." He couldn't believe that he had actually teased her about that. What a bastard he'd been.

"And when I told you that Voldemort had possessed me?"

"Yes."

"It was before the start of my first year, and we had just come home from Diagon Alley with all our school supplies and books. That was the first time I met you, do you remember that?" she smiled up at him, and he smirked.

"Yes, I remember calling you Potter's girlfriend. I was wildly jealous, of course."

"Of course," she giggled, "You embarrassed me thoroughly that day. Thank you for that."

"Sorry."

"No you're not, but it's okay. Anyway, I was packing my trunk that night with all my new things and I found a little diary in with all my books. I thought someone had left it in there, and had just forgotten about it. So, I wrote in it that night about how excited I was to be going to Hogwarts at last, and…" she sighed, "and the diary wrote back."

"It _wrote back_?"

"Yeah. Whatever I wrote would sink into the page, and the ink would disappear, and then the diary would write back." Draco felt a chill creep up his spine. "The diary told me that he was a memory of a sixteen year old boy. He said his name was Tom."

Her eyes were shining, and he stroked her cheek, willing her to continue. "I was so excited. It was the coolest thing I'd ever owned, and for a long time Tom was my only friend."

"Why?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. Ron and I were really close when we were growing up, but he made it very clear that I wasn't a part of the Golden Trio. And I was always making a fool of myself in front of Harry and everyone thought it was funny… I just didn't really get on with anyone… and at the end of the day I didn't care that I hadn't made any friends, because I had Tom. I wrote to him every day, at least once a day, for a long time before I realized that something was wrong. There were huge gaps in my memory, and I would wake up in strange places and not know how I'd gotten there. And a couple times I woke up with blood on my hands, or paint on my robes. I was terrified, but I didn't have anyone to talk to about it, so I told Tom about it.

"I eventually figured it out, that Tom was the reason all this strange and scary stuff was happening to me, and that I was the reason people were getting hurt, and I tried to get rid of him. I thought if the diary was gone, I'd feel better and the attacks would stop. And they did and I felt better, so I knew I was right. I knew it was Tom. But then I found out that Harry had somehow gotten the diary. And I had to get it back. I couldn't let the same thing happen to Harry. And I did get it back, but it was like I couldn't stop myself from writing in it again.

"I was so dependant on Tom for so long, and it was hard to let it go, even though I knew he was hurting me. But it was too much, and then the whole thing in the Chamber happened."

He nodded. He knew that part of the story already.

"Later, Dumbledore told me that the diary had actually belonged to Lord Voldemort when he was in school. His real name was Tom Riddle. I couldn't believe that my best friend was freaking Voldemort… but, whenever I wrote in the diary, especially stuff about my hopes and fears and all my eleven-year-old girl angst, he took a part of my soul and replaced it with bits of his own. That night in the Chamber he was going to completely take me over. I would have died, and we would have had two Voldemort's running around." She laughed humorlessly. "When Harry killed him… or stabbed the diary or whatever…" she sighed and struggled again with the words, "He left a part of himself inside of me. It's like an imprint. And I can feel him sometimes, especially when I get angry. And sometimes… you know that little voice in your head?" he nodded, "Sometimes mine sounds like him." She took a deep shuddering breath.

"But the school stuff, I think I know everything he knew at sixteen, but it's like I have to remind myself of what he knew and then it comes really easily. Does that make sense? If I ever wanted to, I think the Dark Arts would come ridiculously easy for me. I've got this dark, evil thing living inside of me."

"Gin," he said softly, "There's nothing about you that's dark or evil."

Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over, and she let out a single soft sob.

"I've met him. I've spoken to him. I've suffered first hand because of him. I know what he's capable of, and I know how dark and horrible he is and how it feels when he's around. None of that is in you. I'd know it."

She moved so she was sitting in his lap, and cried into his shoulder, "I couldn't tell _anyone_," she sobbed, "No one else would have understood. I didn't know what they'd _do_ to me…"

Draco felt a lump growing in his own throat. How had she carried this around for all these years? She was such a naturally open person, how did she live with this dark secret? He held her tightly to him and stroked her hair until her tears subsided into quiet sniffles.

He conjured a handkerchief and handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said, and dabbed at her face. "I'm sorry I fell apart like that. I'm such a girl, right?"

"No," he said fiercely, shaking his head, "You're the strongest person I know." She looked like she didn't quite believe him, and he kissed her softly. "I love you, Gin."

Her lips quirked, and she said, "I love you too."

He held her close and they stared into the fire, adjusting to this new level of their relationship. It didn't really feel all that different, he thought. He only felt slightly more exposed. He expected that Ginny felt the same way. He had known for a while that he loved her, so this wasn't some great revelation for him, but it was amazing to know that Ginny felt the same way. He felt happy and buoyant, and like something warm had just wrapped around his heart. He rather liked this feeling.

"Well," he said finally, "I guess you can look at your spell proficiency as severance pay."

She giggled, "Severance pay?"

"Yeah, something bad happened to you, but at least you got something good out of it."

"I guess so," she said, and kissed his cheek.

"Hey," he said, realization dawning, "You're not really bad at potions, are you?"

She smirked, "Nope. I just think it's boring."

He shook his head in exasperation, and she pulled his face to hers.

-----

Christmas morning dawned bright, and far too early, in Draco's opinion. He'd only been asleep for a few hours before he was rudely awakened by a tiny redhead bouncing on his bed.

"Draco, wake up!" she ordered, and he moaned and pulled his pillow over his head.

"Noo," he groaned, "S'too early."

"It's eight o'clock, and you've gotten four hours of sleep, and that's plenty for Christmas."

Never mind that he'd spent two of those precious hours staring at the ceiling, and thinking about the words, 'I love you.'

"Come on," she needled, "presents!"

Presents? He had presents? Well, that was worth getting up for. He squinted cautiously at the foot of his bed, and was pleased to find that he had quite a little pile. He hadn't really been expecting any.

"I brought mine in too," Ginny said, "I thought we could open them together."

He unwrapped the largest first. It was lumpy and Ginny was grinning at him. It was a jumper. "It's from Mum," she said giddily, "She made you a Weasley jumper!"

"Oh, Merlin," he groaned, just another indication that he'd been unceremoniously adopted by the Weasley clan. Inwardly, though, he was rather pleased. It was a nice jumper, the gray wool was soft under his fingers, and it would be warm.

Ginny was pulling her pale blue jumper on over her pajamas, and the static electricity made her hair frizz up. He grinned at her, and did the same.

Tonks had given him a gobstones set, a deck of Exploding Snap cards, and a wizarding chess set. The note that accompanied it told him that she thought he needed to lighten up a bit. Remus had given him a book on advanced transfiguration, which included a section on Animagus training, and even the twins had given him a box of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans. One peak told him that they had picked out all the good tasting ones, but it made him laugh all the same. It helped that Mrs. Weasley had also included a box of fudge.

"I didn't get you anything," he said, feeling rather guilty.

"How could you have?" Ginny said, "I didn't get you anything either."

He smiled slyly, and crawled over to her, "Well, maybe later we can make it up to each other, yeah?"

She giggled happily, and pulled him down on top of her for a long slow kiss.

-----

Harry, Ron and Hermione left for parts unknown early on Boxing Day, without so much as a goodbye to Ginny. Draco found her sniffling in the library after lunch. He cursed the trio once more, and wrapped his arms around her waist. She shifted papers around on the tabletop, but relaxed into him. He waited a moment until she shuddered out a sigh, and said, "I really didn't think they'd take it this badly."

"I did. I thought you might go back to him." It cost him a lot to admit that, but she shook her head.

She squeezed his arms, and said, "I love you, Draco." His eyes shut. He loved those words. He kissed her ear and whispered the words back to her.

-----

A/N: Reviews are loved, and reviewers are worshipped. Hehe.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own Draco Malfoy, or Ginny Weasley, or Tonks. And I wouldn't ever want to call Voldemort my own… so there.

Warning: Character Death. And I hated doing it.

A/N: This chapter is different from the rest. It is told from the POV of several different characters. I hope that I don't make it too confusing. This is also the most depressing thing I've ever had to write. Gah. goes off to read some fluff

-----

Lord Voldemort lounged in a high backed chair in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. A glass of red wine dangled elegantly from his long white fingers as he focused on an aged map of the United Kingdom that hung in an ornate frame on the wall opposite. He grinned as tiny glowing green symbols sprung up on the map. Tonight would be a night for the ages. Attacks had been planned on Muggle communities throughout the UK, with a special emphasis on London. He counted the little skulls and snakes idly, and wondered how many Muggles lay dead beneath the eerie glow of the Dark Mark. He hoped the total numbered in the thousands. That would make him very pleased indeed.

The door to his right burst open, and a dark haired woman flew through it, as though possessed by the devil. It wasn't an odd sort of behavior. The Dark Lord rolled his eyes at the intruder, who had fallen prostrate near the ground at his feet.

"What is it, Bellatrix?"

"My Lord, I was in London on the raids tonight."

"Yes," he said impatiently, "And how many Muggles did you kill?"

"Many, my Lord, but—"

Annoyed at not getting a satisfactory answer, he said sharply, "Then what is it, Bella?"

"I believe I know where the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located."

He raised one eyebrow, and his eyes slowly drifted to hers, "Indeed?"

-----

"Draco! Draco, help me! Oh, gods!"

Draco tried to run towards the sound of Ginny's voice, but felt as though his feet were sinking through quicksand. "Ginny! No!" She was fading away, her eyes wide with terror, and her voice seemed to reach his struggling form as though being carried on the wind. "No!"

"Draco! Draco, wake up!"

He sat up suddenly, and his head nearly collided with Ginny's. He grabbed her shoulders and blinked at her. Oh, it had been a dream then. Her hands covered his and she smiled at him, though it seemed forced.

"What is it?" he asked.

"There's been an attack. Everyone left."

Draco frowned, "Everyone?"

"They wouldn't say, but I guess it was pretty large scale."

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and tried not to think about what the Dark Lord was up to. He didn't care, he told himself, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with him. Not anymore. "Why are you dressed?" he asked. She was wearing jeans and her new pale blue jumper.

"I haven't gone to bed yet," she replied, "I was reading when Mum told me that they were all leaving." She hopped off his bed, and called over her shoulder, "Put some clothes on and have a butterbeer with me."

Her tone was light, but Draco knew she was worried for her family. He knew how much she hated being excluded from the war, but the thing she hated most was feeling helpless. Situations like this one must be incredibly hard for her. He pulled on a pair of jeans and his own gray jumper, and contemplated how he would distract her tonight. He grabbed his deck of Exploding Snap cards on the way out the door, just in case.

He entered the kitchen and winced at the bright lights. Ginny was at the table, picking away at the label on her bottle. He slapped the deck down on the table, already knowing she wouldn't be keen on kissing or anything else, and said, "Do try not to lose your eyebrows, Weasley." She grinned up at him, and grabbed the cards to deal.

They made their way through five games of Exploding Snap, and three bottles of butterbeer each, when the fire burst into life.

A pink haired Tonks stumbled from the flames, and when she saw them seated calmly at the table she sighed in relief, "Oh, thank Merlin!"

"Tonks, what's wrong?" Ginny asked, a trace of panic in her voice.

"Go get your cloaks," Tonks said, "We have to get out of here."

"Why?"

"There was an attack in the square tonight, but the Dark Mark hasn't been cast. I think _He_ might know that we're here."

Ginny and Draco exchanged a look, and all but fell from their chairs as they raced from the room. They skidded over to the staircase, and Draco chanced a glance outside. What he saw froze his insides. His Aunt Bella was standing next to a tall snakelike man in the middle of the square. He grabbed Ginny's arm, and yelled, "Tonks!" Ginny gasped and clutched at him, as they watched the Dark Lord pull his wand from the pocket of his robes and cast a spell.

"What? Why are you two just standing there? We have to leave," Tonks said harshly.

"Tom's outside," Ginny breathed.

The three of them watched, horrorstruck, as blue light shimmered in the air, and something broke. A ward, Draco thought. He's breaking through the wards. A chill raced down his spine.

"Forget the cloaks," Tonks said, grabbing their arms and pulling them to the kitchen, "Floo, now!"

They ran to the fire, and Ginny grabbed the little jar of floo powder from the mantle, and tipped it over her hand. And then shook it. She turned wide, frightened eyes to Tonks.

The floo powder was gone.

-----

Dumb luck was a wondrous thing, Lord Voldemort thought, as he prodded the air with his wand. One measly attack on a muggle suburb, and then this windfall. Bellatrix had been here only hours before with a group of Death Eaters, and she had thought the square looked familiar. A few _Avada Kedavra's_ later, and the answer came to her… her Aunt and Uncle's house. A home that would have passed to Sirius Black. A home that now would belong to one very annoying boy. And a home that would be too tempting for even the Great Albus Dumbledore to pass up.

He could feel several enchantments in the air, and the magic felt familiar. It was too pure, too _good_ to be a mere coincidence. There was a _Fidelius_ charm in place, but that was to be expected. A problem to deal with after the rest of the wards were broken… He waved his wand, blue light springing from the tip, and he felt a barrier shake. Lord Voldemort suspected that it would take him a mere thirty minutes to break down the wards. He cast and recast, and imagined the flurry of activity that must be going on inside the house. Order members scrambling for cover and escape. But there was nowhere to run. He grinned, and hoped that Harry Potter was inside.

-----

Inside the house, Draco, Ginny, and Tonks were in the kitchen. The three of them were frantically ripping apart the contents of the cabinets, searching for extra floo powder.

"Where is it?! I know we bought extra!" Tonks babbled, tossing several jars of strawberry jam to the floor.

"It's not here. Can he cast spells from outside?" Ginny asked.

"He can do anything," Draco said, shoving a jar of pickles aside, "Charming away floo powder would be easy."

"Tonks, can we apparate out?"

"The apparition point is in the square, and I'm not taking you two out there."

"Well, the _Fidelius_ charm—"

"It won't hold him forever."

"What are we going to do?"

Tonks sighed, and made a distressed motion with her hands, "I—I don't know. Draco, can you apparate?"

"I was never able to do it in the classes," he replied, feeling terror taking ahold of him as the conversation turned in confused circles. He pushed it back. Now was not the time to panic. He could panic later when he was staring down the wand of the Dark Lord. "And I never took the test."

"Alright, okay," Tonks said, "We can't get out by apparating then, and he'll probably have an anti-apparition ward up anyway."

"So the only thing we can do is fight?" Ginny said, a definite tremor in her voice.

"No!" Tonks said vehemently, "No, you two are not going to fight him. And I know that I'm no match for him."

"Is there a back way out?" Draco asked, "Can we run?"

"The twins left their brooms here, and I have mine! We can fly out from the courtyard!" Ginny exclaimed.

Tonks still looked wary of the plan, but it was their only hope. "Okay, Ginny go get the brooms, Draco and I will scout the courtyard. We'll have to fly fast. Thank Merlin you two were seekers."

Ginny ran from the kitchen to collect the brooms, and Tonks led Draco down the hall to the courtyard door. It was dark, but Draco could see an eerie green glow shining off the snow. He glanced up and saw the Dark Mark hovering over the house. "He's gotten cocky," he said.

"With good reason," Tonks muttered, and then shook her head and smiled weakly at Draco, "I'm sorry. It's going to be alright."

"No, it's not, but thanks anyway."

Draco knew it wouldn't be okay. He felt it in his gut that something truly terrible was going to happen, and he was fairly certain that he would be dead by the end of it. They were safe in the house for now, but even a _Fidelius_ charm wouldn't keep Voldemort out forever, and then… well, the Dark Lord would be angry with him once more.

-----

The Dark Lord had stopped casting. Bellatrix looked at him anxiously. Had she been wrong?

"Can we get in, my Lord?"

"No. There is a _Fidelius_ charm on the house."

He was looking very intently at the space of air before him, and suddenly he smiled, "Oh, I recognize someone."

"Who is it? Harry Potter?"

"No," he shook his head, "No… I recognize myself." His eyes slid shut, and he hissed, "_Legilimens_."

-----

Ginny paused at the top of the stairs, suddenly feeling as if she wasn't alone. Her fingers tightened on the broomsticks clutched in her hands. She knew this feeling… but from where? She peered around the darkened space, and when it became apparent that she was indeed alone, she raced down the stairs. At the bottom her fingers suddenly slackened, and the brooms clattered to the floor. Ginny's head tilted back, and a little huff of surprise passed through her lips.

A voice in the back of her mind said, "_Ginevra, darling, it's been too long. Come outside so I can get a good look at you_."

-----

Tonks deemed the courtyard safe, though they wouldn't know for sure until they were in the air.

They walked down the hall to meet Ginny in the foyer. Ginny was standing with her back to them, broomsticks scattered at her feet, one shaking hand on the doorknob.

"Ginny!" Tonks yelled, "What are you doing?"

Ginny stiffened and an agonized cry left her lips. Then she seemed to relax, and took her hand away from the knob. She pulled her wand from the back pocket of her jeans, and held it up slowly. Tonks put a hand out to stop Draco from approaching her. There was something wrong. Very wrong. Draco could feel it in the air, radiating from Ginny.

Tonks pushed Draco to stand behind her, and pulled her own wand, "Ginny?"

Ginny whirled on them, and Draco took a step back at the look in her eyes. They were not Ginny's eyes. They were burning red, and filled with such fury and hatred that they could only belong to one man. He could not look away, though all he wanted to do was run in the opposite direction.

"So _this_ is where you've been hiding, Draco," she hissed, but it couldn't have been her voice. Ginny, even at her cruelest, had never sounded like that. Tonks raised her wand to cast a spell, but Ginny was faster. Brilliant, agonizingly familiar green light arced from her wand, and stuck Tonks in the chest. Her eyes rounded as she was thrown backwards. Tonks crumpled to the ground, and Draco turned horrified eyes to Ginny. He wanted to scream. He wanted to hex her, or shake her until she was _Ginny_ again. But he could only stare at her in shock. She smiled wickedly at him, and said, "I think I'll leave you to clean up the mess. Good luck, Draco."

She turned to open the front door, and Draco followed her, as if in a daze. He stopped at the door, and clutched the doorjamb. He should go out there. He should fight. He should _save_ her.

He watched from the doorway as Ginny stumbled down the path to where the Dark Lord was waiting for her. Draco was frozen in place, terror gripping his heart, and cowardice preventing his feet from moving. She stood before Lord Voldemort now, her eyes blank and focused on the clasp of his robes. She weaved slightly on her feet, and Draco wondered if she had any idea what was going on, or what she had just done. The Dark Lord smirked down at her, and weaved his bony white fingers through her hair. Draco felt his stomach turn.

"Oh, Ginevra, so lovely… and deadly. It's no wonder that my younger self took a fancy to you." One long finger traced the bridge of her nose, patting the end of it lightly. "You'll make excellent bait for young Harry Potter, and…" he appraised her for a moment, "Maybe something more." He chuckled, and Draco felt goosebumps rise on his skin. Move, he said to himself, you've got to move. Do _something_!

The Dark Lord nodded at Bellatrix, who raised her wand to take down the anti-apparition ward. He wrapped an arm around Ginny's waist, and with a crack, the three disapparated.

Draco's knees gave out, and he fell to the floor, breathing in hard panting gasps. His eyes fell on Tonks's sprawled form, and he crawled over to her, calling her name softly, though deep down he knew it was of no use. Draco knelt over Tonks and gently shook her shoulders. Her head lolled to one side. When unconscious or asleep a metamorphagus reverts to their true form, and he was struck by how much she looked like his mother. She had his Narcissa's pale aristocratic features, and his aunt Bella's long, thick black hair. Her eyes were shut, and he was glad that he didn't have to see her staring sightlessly at him.

"Tonks?" he said quietly, feeling tears drip down his cheeks, "Tonks, please… wake up." He shook her again, and still nothing, "She didn't mean it," he said, his voice cracking, "Ginny didn't mean it. She didn't know what she was doing. He possessed her again… she'd never—"

He buried his face in his hands, and couldn't contain the tears as the enormity of the situation collapsed around his ears. Lord Voldemort had breached the Order's safe house. He had possessed Ginny. Ginny had _killed_ Tonks. Tonks was dead, and Ginny had been kidnapped. And he had done _nothing_. He was hardly aware of his own sobs, of how his chest and hands shook. He grabbed Tonks by the shoulders once more and shook her hard, "Don't be dead," he said frantically, "Don't be dead!"

He found his wand and pointed it at her chest and said, "_Rennervate!_" Nothing seemed to happen, so he cast the spell again, and again. He cast it over and over until he could not speak through his tears. He fell on her chest and buried his face in her hair. "Please, Tonks, please…"

"Draco!"

His head shot up. Arthur and Molly were running up the front steps, terror written plainly on their faces. The Dark Mark lit the square from above, and he stared dumbly at the spot where Ginny had disappeared until the slamming front door made him snap his eyes to the Weasley's.

Molly dropped to her knees next to him and put her fingers to Tonks's neck. She gave a horrified little gasp and tried again, "Arthur, she's—"

"Draco, what happened?"

"The Dark Lord found the house," he said woodenly. "He took Ginny." Arthur and Molly gaped at him with wide frightened eyes. Molly's hand flew to cover her mouth, and Arthur began to shake.

"What happened to Tonks?" Molly asked, with a note of hysteria.

"Ginny—" his voice cracked once more, "He possessed her, and—" He couldn't go on. He couldn't tell her parents that she had used the Killing Curse. It was plain enough. He began to cry again, completely unable to help it, and Molly gathered him into her arms, crying herself.

"We have to get out of here," Arthur said.

"But _Ginny_—"

"We need to organize everyone, Molly. Inform the aurors, and get Tonks—" he took a deep breath, "And take care of Tonks."

Molly was rocking back and forth, crying into Draco's shoulder. She pulled away, shuddering, "Where should we go?"

"Hogwarts. Take Draco to Hogwarts. I'll sort everything here."

Molly nodded stiffly, and stood. "I'll get Draco settled, and I'll meet you at the Ministry."

Arthur pulled her quickly to him and kissed her forehead, "We'll get her back, Molly."

Draco felt sure that this all had to be some awful dream. Tonks could not truly be dead. Ginny could not truly be at the mercy of the Dark Lord. He had not stood by and _allowed_ it all to happen. He hardly paid attention as a portkey was placed in his hand. Something tugged behind his navel, and he spun and spun through space, and when he fell onto Professor McGonagall's carpet, he retched.

-----

A/N: sobs I know, I know. You hate me. And I don't blame you. I sort of hate myself, but leave me a review to tell me how awful I am. I deserve it. Also, if you're confused, Voldemort never saw the house, as that would be impossible with the _Fidelius_ charm in place, but he could feel Ginny and that piece of himself inside the house, and that was enough for him to target her, and possess her.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. I just like to play in it.

A/N: Yeah, so this took forever, and I'm just going to post it so I don't have to look at this Word document any longer. I blame Draco. He gave me the silent treatment. He and I both apologize.

-----

Three days had passed since Tonk's death. Three days since Ginny had been kidnapped. Two days spent crying himself to sleep in a familiar four-poster bed, and smashing and repairing anything within reach. It only took two days for fury to harden Draco's eyes, and revenge to fill his heart.

The funeral for Tonks had been a small affair, and very brief. It wasn't safe to spend much time out in the open. His aunt and uncle, whom he had never met, stood quietly by the tomb, tears dripping silently down their cheeks. Professor Lupin had been inconsolable. Draco, however, had cried himself out. The flower he left at the gravesite was a flamboyant, lurid pink, and stood out starkly in the pile of white roses, but he imagined that Tonks would have snorted and elbowed him in the gut for it, so he ignored the curious looks.

Plans for Ginny's rescue had been made, but he wasn't told what they were. He tried not to think about what she must be going though, but it was nearly impossible, since he knew how much the Dark Lord enjoyed torture, and the means he used. He tried not to imagine blood staining her skin, or matting her hair. Tried not to think about her cries of pain.

Order members had taken his testimony under Veritaserum, and an owl had been sent to Potter. Whether the Boy Wonder liked it or not, whether he was ready or not, the final battle was upon them. And now, Draco was ready to meet it. He imagined how it would be, how the hate would fill his veins, and how he would turn their own dark lessons upon them. He would make sure that his education had been worthwhile. He would make them suffer.

Members of the Order were gathered in Professor McGonagall's office, and Draco was sitting on the staircase in the entrance hall, staring intently at the closed front doors. He was waiting for Potter and his two tag-alongs to show. The Order was expecting them any day, and Draco had something very important to say.

The door opened just when his legs had started to fall asleep, but it wasn't the Golden Trio. He wobbled to his feet, and stared at the man he wasn't sure he'd ever see again, though this was a man who would have answers.

"Professor Snape."

"Draco," he replied, inclining his head mockingly. "Survived I see."

"It was a close thing," he deadpanned, though that was not at all what he wanted to be talking about.

"I hope all those bleeding heart Gryffindor's haven't sapped you of your sense of self-preservation."

That stung, though he was sure Snape didn't know about the events in Grimmauld Place, "I can assure you that they haven't."

Snape nodded, and began to climb the stairs. Draco fidgeted behind him, wanting very badly to ask after Ginny, but at the same time, he wasn't sure that he wanted to hear more bad news. Finally, he blurted out the question, "Have you seen Ginny?"

Snape turned, and said, "No."

"Has he hurt her?"

"I don't believe so, though I doubt that will continue to be the case. He's imprisoned her in your old bedroom. I believe he has plans for her that don't include his traditional brand of torture."

"Like what?" Draco asked, loathing the panic that laced his voice.

Snape hesitated, and then said, "You really care for the girl, don't you?"

Draco hardened his expression.

"I believe he intends for her to be his most important Death Eater."

"What? What does that mean?"

"He believes that young Miss Weasley has the potential to become a great Dark Witch, and he intends to create her in his own image, so to speak."

Draco had a wild mental image of Ginny with snake-like eyes beneath her long red hair. "But she'd never…"

"Perhaps," he said, and then sighed, "You'd be surprised what people will do, Draco, especially… well." He shrugged, and continued on up the stairs.

Draco sat heavily back on the stair, trying to process this information.

She had said something similar once, and he remembered that conversation in vivid detail. That she could feel the Dark Lord inside of her. That the Dark Arts would come ridiculously easy for her. That sometimes the voice in her head sounds like Him. Draco shuddered and wondered what it would take to seduce her over to the Dark Arts, and whether the girl he loved could resist that lure any better than he could.

-----

Potter, Granger, and Weasley arrived at Hogwarts the next day to a grim sort of fanfare. It was hours before they emerged from the Headmaster's office, and several more before Draco could corner Harry.

"Potter!" he called, "Wait up."

"Go to hell, Malfoy!" He didn't stop, just kept right on walking until he was at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

"Potter, I've got something to say—"

"Well, I don't want to hear it!"

"_Harry_—"

It was the first name that did it. Harry turned slowly, with an incredulous look on his face. Draco pounced.

"I want to help. I want to help you kill Him."

Harry's eyes were filled with doubt, but he didn't say a word.

"I want them to pay for what they did. To Tonks, to Ginny, and to me. I have as much right to go after Him as you do."

Harry looked away and clenched his jaw, "Yeah, you do."

An extremely uncomfortable silence followed. Neither of them knew how to go about this 'allies' business. It was unnatural.

"What can I do?"

"I don't know, Malfoy. I don't even know what _I'm_ going to do."

Oh, Merlin. They were well and truly fucked if even the Chosen One was at a loss. Draco wanted to grab Harry's shoulders and shake, but he didn't. He clenched his fists and said fiercely, "You're going to kill Him, Potter, because that's what you're _supposed_ to do. And the rest of us will have your back. Even me."

They shuddered in unison, both revolted and amazed that they, of all people, had gotten to this point.

"Thanks, Malfoy."

"So what's your ace?"

"Ace?"

"What do you have that He doesn't have? How are you going to be the one to kill Him?"

Harry laughed shortly and said, "Dumbledore said it was love."

Draco considered this for a moment. The notion was ridiculous, but he had to admit that if there was one thing Voldemort didn't understand, it was love. Who, after all, could love a face like that? "Love, huh?"

"Yeah. No idea how that's supposed to work."

Draco bit his lip and raised an eyebrow; "Sorry I stole your girlfriend then."

Harry rolled his eyes, "No, you're not."

"No, I'm really not," Draco said, and then started off down the hall.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to research 'love' in the library," he replied, though he thought it was an idiotic thing to do. But maybe they'd overlooked something. He called over his shoulder, "Maybe you could send Granger over so I don't bother with anything she's already tried."

He heard Harry laugh, and mutter something about being in the Twilight Zone.

-----

Hours later, with many books piled on the table between them, Hermione spoke.

"I'm not sure what I'm looking for, exactly."

"I don't know either," he sighed, feeling rather defeated. Though they had only been at it for three hours. If that was all the time it took to find a spell to defeat Lord Voldemort, surely Dumbledore would have finished the job ages ago. "It's got to be an old spell. Ancient. That tricked him up last time with Potter. And maybe something that suffuses his whole being with the emotion of love—"

"But you can't manufacture true love—" they said at the same time.

"But maybe," Hermione went on, "there's a spell that allows the caster to give their own love to another person."

"Person might be stretching it a bit, Granger, but that sounds like an idea."

Hermione smiled her 'I just got ten points for Gryffindor' smile. "When did you get so good at charms, Malfoy?"

"Well," and he struggled not to call her Mudblood, "If you cared to notice who was second place to you in every class, the name on that list would have been Malfoy, Draco. I also got straight O's on my OWL's. And as for last year," he waved a negligent hand, "I'm all caught up now, thanks to your diligent note taking."

Hermione blushed, and seemed irritated. Draco smirked with pleasure. _This_ was how things were supposed to be.

They spent an hour or two more comparing notes on various ancient magic books, but didn't find anything particularly useful. They agreed in the end that they would have to create the spell themselves. Hermione pulled out a long piece of parchment and a quill, and they put their heads together, quite literally, and began brushing up on their arithmancy.

"No, no, the Digamma can't be added to Omicron. They offset each other," Hermione said, and scratched out the letters.

They worked right through dinner, and they only had the giving emotion part of the spell worked out.

Hermione rubbed her eyes wearily and set her quill down, "In theory, it should work. But how do we get the spell to reverse itself after it's been cast? We can't leave Harry without a sense of love."

Draco sighed and said, "A simple 'finite' worked in at the end, maybe? But would that reverse the effect of the spell altogether? And how do we even know if this will kill him?"

"We don't."

"What if," Draco started, "we could modify the Avada Kedavra curse?"

Hermione's jaw dropped a bit.

"Hear me out, Granger. The basis of the killing curse is hate. You have to really be filled with hatred to pull it off, but in theory the opposite of hate is love—"

"If we could change the emotion behind the killing curse… That would be very nearly revolutionary, Malfoy."

He smirked, and said, "Thinking of submitting this thesis to the _Journal of Curses and Counter-Curses_ when all this is over?"

"Don't worry, I'll put your name on too," she smirked back.

He laughed, surprised, and noticed Hermione looking at him strangely, "What? What are you staring at?"

"I'm starting to understand what Ginny sees in you."

Draco scowled and resolved to throw around the term, "Mudblood," in the future. Perhaps he could give it an affectionate ring, just to shake things up.

----

He went to sleep very late that night and dreamed of Ginny.

Ginny with feathers floating around her pale face.

Ginny with her wand pointed at his nose, and a mischievous glint in her eye.

Ginny's lips under his.

Ginny moaning his name as she pulsed beneath him.

Ginny with her head in his lap, spilling all her darkest secrets.

He woke with tears on his face.

-----

A/N: God. This stupid chapter nearly killed me. It's just so transition-y… Hopefully Draco cooperates and the next chapter won't take so long. I apologize again for the delay. Also, I've tweaked the rules of arithmancy to serve my own purposes, but I doubt anyone will hold that against me. I also think the whole changing the AK spell came from some fic I read, but for the life of me I have no idea which one. The means isn't all that important anyway, just that they get the job done. Coming up next: a brief interlude, where we find out what's been happening to Ginny… if I'm brave enough to post it…. It's dark and probably offensive to everyone's sensibilities.


	14. Chapter 14

An Interlude.

Disclaimer: Not mine. I don't think JKR would do to Ginny what I've just done.

A/N: I have no idea where this came from, but it's dark. Really dark. I think it's because I watched _Heathers_ for the first time this week, and the way Christian Slater's character got off on the violence… yeah... It was twisted and obviously affected me.

-----

"Ginevra."

"Tom."

Their greetings were always silky. Beneath his: needles and venom. Beneath hers: fear.

He was going to change the game today. She knew.

He cast the spell over her, and she felt the power once again, infusing her every pore, every cell, until she ached with the fullness. It was painful, stabbing and throbbing, and the only way, the _only_ way to get rid of it was to kill.

Yesterday had been spiders.

Today it was kittens.

She knew they weren't _real_ kittens. They'd likely been transfigured from teacups, but she started to sob at their little pink noses and tiny mews anyway. She raised her wand and said the words.

Release. Relief. And a building sensation.

Tom was grinning.

She held off as long as possible, though it felt as if the magic was killing her. The ache low in her stomach grew and grew until she was panting with it. It was the magic, she knew that: the effect of the Dark Arts on a novice. Dizzying down to her depths, and shuddering outwards: the ultimate foreplay.

The grey tabby was next to go.

And, oh _fucking Salazar_, it just got better and better. Easier and easier every time. She shuddered out a hoarse cry, and felt herself contract. A sort of half orgasm.

He was still smiling. Boyish again, just for her. The beautiful dark boy from her diary. She gasped with want.

The fluffy white one with the yellow eyes.

Her cry split the air, and she knew that sound. It was her, "Oh, yes, right there!" cry. She bit her lip. Tasted the bitter tang of copper.

"Just one more, Ginevra darling," he said. She flicked her eyes over his arousal.

She was panting hard and fast. She could feel the wetness seeping through her knickers. She locked her eyes on Tom's and cast again.

The orange tabby.

It hit her, thundering through her veins from her fingertips to her toes. She collapsed to the floor when her knees gave out. She lay there trembling as her breathing evened, and the world righted itself. She began to cry, in hatred, in shame. Tom knelt before her, and tipped her chin upwards. She vowed that he would regret every moment of this, would rue the day he had pulled this knowledge from the recesses of her mind. She imagined his hideous snake face, twisted and apocalyptic with rage, when he would realize that he'd given her more than just aching power with that spell.

"Beautiful, deadly Ginevra."

He tutted at her tears, and left the kittens for her to vanish away, the lesson concluded.

-----

In a cemetery in Little Hangleton, Ginny stood inside the circle of Death Eaters. They sneered and taunted her with cries of, "Blood traitor," and, "Worthless Pureblood." It was nothing she hadn't heard before. Ginny, for her part, stood stoically, eyes fixed on the spot where Tom would appear. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her face fresh and pure with a handy glamour. She looked much younger than sixteen. That was how he liked it.

When he appeared in a whoosh of swirling ethereal black cloak, she nearly smiled at his predictability. His flair for the dramatic would be his downfall. The others fell silent.

"I think," he said slowly, "something different for you."

Ginny obediently held out her hand and he turned it palm up, gently cradling her hand in his.

It hurt. Her fingers clenched around Tom's thumb. She squeezed her eyes shut. The hooded figures around the circle were still, watching. She would not scream. The pain stopped. The others wordlessly cleared a spot for her at Tom's right side. She took it, just as silently. She examined the burn, and poked it, hissing at the sharp pain. Hers _was_ different. The snake wore a crown.

My, he _did_ have high hopes.

-----

Dusk, and Ginny was standing on a bridge over the Thames with her young, beautiful Tom. They were in Muggle London, and she felt far more uncomfortable than he looked. The Muggles, mostly people on holiday it seemed, brushed past them with backpacks and shopping bags. Cars and busses rumbled behind her, shaking the bridge slightly. Ginny found that it was better not to look at them whizzing past, so she fixed her eyes on the House of Parliament. The building glowed gold in the dying light and it looked nearly magical. Tom leaned on the railing beside her, elbows up, watching the crowd go by. She wondered briefly if the Dark Lord enjoyed people watching, but she supposed he was plotting out gruesome death for each person who said, "Excuse me, young man."

She doesn't know why he brought her here, and it made her nervous. She feared that she was falling into his trap.

He leaned over to whisper in her ear, and she wondered if they looked like lovers. "Are you ready to prove yourself, Ginevra?"

Ginny kept her eyes on the golden building.

He put his lips to her ear and recited, "Remember, remember the fifth of November…"

Ginny frowned.

"Didn't take Muggle Studies, my love?"

"No."

"Surprising for a blood traitor such as yourself."

Ginny rolled her eyes inwardly. If anyone was a blood traitor on this bridge it was the boy next to her.

"Remember, remember the fifth of November," he began again, "The gunpowder, treason and plot. I see no reason why gunpowder, treason should ever be forgot." His lips brushed her ear as he spoke. It reminded her of Draco, and how he got her to remember the dates of goblin rebellions for History of Magic. Ache blossomed in her chest. "Have you heard of Guy Fawkes, Ginevra?"

Oh, _hell_. "Yes."

"Then you know what I want you to do. You must prove yourself to me."

"And if I don't?"

His low, mocking chuckle skated around her neck. "You will. You've nowhere else to go."

His fingers delicately danced along the inside her wrist, and her wand appeared in her hand. He gave her the time of the attack, less than a minute away, and disapparated. Ginny froze, waiting for a shocked scream from behind her, but none came.

Ginny shut her eyes and held her wand loosely between her fingers. She could leave, but he would find her. She could leave, but there was no one who would welcome her. Draco, maybe, would accept her as she is now, but he was with the others. There was nothing to do but wait for Harry to make his move. The clock struck eight. Ginny opened her eyes and watched dispassionately as spells arced from at least twenty different points, and converged with a loud explosion on the beautiful golden building. Ginny shot a weak reductor curse into the river, and apparated to where Tom, now ugly and snakelike, would be waiting.

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A/N: I realize that equating the dark arts to sex is a little silly, but I thought it would make more of an impression than the whole dark magic drugs thing that they did on BtVS. I always thought that was lame, but the principle holds true in this story. After awhile you build up a tolerance, an addiction, and it's just more and more dark arts till you reach that 'high'. If you have more questions I'll answer them. I realize that this interlude was a little confusing. It was meant to be that way.

I also have a question for you guys… I realize that this interlude is pretty damn dark, but how dark are you willing to go on the murder and mayhem scale? Can you still love a Draco and Ginny who use the Unforgiveables like they're going out of style?


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